Something To Remember
by inmyeyes
Summary: R/T : What happens when Tristan gets to rewrite his past with Rory? An accident gives him the chance to start over... and finally get the happily-ever-after. Or is it? [Complete]
1. Crash Into Me

Disclaimer : I don't own the characters from the Gilmore Girls; they belong to WB and Amy Sherman-Palladino.   
Author's Note : Just wanted to say a big thanks to all you guys who have reviewed my stories. This is my second long-ish Trory fic. I hope you enjoy it. Feedback is always welcome. :D   


  
****

*** * * * ***   
**Something To Remember**   
**by inmyeyes**   
** Part 1**   
****

  
  


(Monday afternoon. Chilton) 

"Where the hell is that damn book?" 

Rory Gilmore frantically ransacked her usually tidy locker, desperately looking for her History book. It was only Monday, but she was already sick of school. She had woken up late earlier that morning, tired after her mother had forced her to watch Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory for the millionth time the night before. When she had pleaded exhaustion at around midnight, Lorelai had been adamant and insisted that she watch Runaway Bride with her. Unable to withstand her mother's pleading and whining, she had finally given in. At around 2am, Lorelai finally allowed her to sleep, and sleep she had. She was so tired that she slept through her early wake up call. 

She had barely made it to Chilton on time, but when second period came long, she was horrified to realize that she had left her Calculus homework on the kitchen table. That pulled her grade down to a B, something that pissed her off. During lunch, Paris had thrown her evil looks and "accidentally" split her Coke on her skirt. She apologized profusely for her carelessness, but Rory was well aware of the tiny smirk that was playing about her lips as well as the triumphant grins of Madeline and Louise. Rory could do nothing but play it off. 

And, _now_ she couldn't find her History book, which she needed to study for tomorrow's test. 

"Damnit," Rory muttered angrily, still looking through her locker. She had to find that book, and soon. Her bus was due to arrive in about 10 minutes. 

He was on his way out when he noticed her familiar form. He could do nothing to stop the grin that was overtaking his face and before he knew it, he was standing behind her. He found himself wondering if her hair was as soft as it looked. Banishing that thought, he said the first thing that came to mind. 

"Hello Mary." 

Rory's hands stilled as Rory thumped her head against her locker door in frustration. Oh God, she really didn't need this. She inhaled deeply, trying to check her frustration then she continued her search. "What do you want?" She didn't turn around to face him, but she knew that he was smirking. 

"You. Me. A hot tub." 

She was too engrossed, her focus still on the elusive History book that Tristan's words and leering tone didn't register in her mind. After a few moments without a witty comeback, Tristan's grin widened as he slowly snaked his arm around her waist, bringing her back to his front, securing her snugly in his arms. 

"What the hell are you doing, Tristan?" Rory snapped, pulling away his arm from her. She turned around to face him, her eyes blazing angrily only to find that he was standing with his hip cocked to one side, his hands in his pockets with his patented DuGrey smirk. 

"Why, Mary. Silence is consent... so I figured you're not averse to the idea of being in a hot tub with me." His tongue darted out to lick his soft lips, but Rory was too riled up to notice how that one simple action made her spine tingle. Her eyes narrowed in anger as she shook a step closer to him, trapping him against the lockers lining the other side of the hallway. 

Tristan's eyes widened slightly at her aggression and against his will, his heart started to race and he could think of nothing else but pulling her tight against his body and kissing her like there was no tomorrow. God, she was beautiful when she was angry. Anger made her look even more alive than she usually was; her eyes were bright with fire and the luminous blue lured him in like a moth to a flame. He held his breath as she leaned in closer to him, wishing that she was going to throw caution to the wind and kiss him but knowing that she was going to scream at him. 

He was right. 

"Listen here, you rich cocky prep boy," she spat out. "I don't know what stupid, demented game you're playing and I really don't care. I am sick of you. Stop calling me Mary. Stop bothering me. Stop harassing me every chance you get. _I don't like you ,Tristan. _I never will." 

For a moment, there was a shocked moment of silence; Rory could not believe that she had gone off on him like that, and Tristan could not believe how much she utterly despised him. 

Tristan bit his lip, trying to compose his thoughts and silence the thundering of his heart. He knew he needed to apologize, but he didn't know how to. His eyes dropped to the floor as he tried to string his thoughts into sentences. When he looked up a second later, she was gone. 

* * * * * 

Rory sat huddled against the hard seat, her vision blurred by the tears that were stinging her eyes. Tears of frustration, tears of misery, tears of hopelessness. It was times like this that she wished that she had never decided to go to Chilton. Her life would have been so much simpler, less complicated, less troubled, less hectic. 

She hastily ran the back of her hand against her eyes, wiping away a stray tear. No, she decided, she wouldn't cry over that school. Over... _him_. She would not waste her tears. Tristan didn't deserve any sort of feelings from her. He was worth nothing else but her indifference. Tristan was- 

'_No,_' she chided herself, '_You will not think of him._' 

When the bus finally came to a stop at Stars Hollow, she was never so eager to get off. She jumped into familiar arms. 

"What's wrong?" came the concerned voice. 

Rory just tightened her arms around him. 

"Nothing Dean," she mumbled, her voice muffled as she had nuzzled her face into his neck. "I just had a bad day." 

* * * * * 

(Wednesday night. Stars Hollow. Gilmore house) 

"Rory!" The scream was followed by a loud thump and Rory hurried into her mother's room, worried about what had happened. She found Lorelai lying sprawled on the floor, a pile of clothes all over her and a large box lying a few feet away. Rory leaned against the door frame, grinning. 

"What happened in here? 

Lorelai sat up, pulling away the clothes and throwing them carelessly into the box. "I forgot that I had put the box in the closet and it fell out when I opened the door," she mumbled, sheepish. She brightened up. "It's the attack of the killer box!" Before Rory could even say anything, Lorelai had gone off on another tangent. "Have you seen my white shirt?" 

Rory walked into the room, unfazed by the piles and piles of clothes strewn around the room. "Which white shirt?" 

Lorelai got up and started rummaging through her closet. "You know, the responsible-looking one." 

Rory got on her knees, helping her mother look for the "responsible looking white shirt". After a few seconds, Rory victoriously held up a white shirt. "Ta-da! I found it!" 

Lorelai turned around, but frowned when she saw the article of clothing that Rory was holding up. "No, that's the don't-mess-with-me white shirt. I'm looking for the responsible-looking one." 

Rory eyed the piles and piles of clothes around her and just plopped herself on Lorelai's bed, giving up on the search for the missing white shirt. "Why do you need it anyway?" 

"It's for the convention. I need that one so that I'll make a good impression," Lorelai explained, looking through yet another pile of clothes. Suddenly, she looked up, "Why aren't you packing, missy?" 

Rory lay back against the soft pillows. "I already did." 

Lorelai pouted. "No fair!" 

Rory grinned at the petulant look on her mother's face. "I'm not the one going to a convention and needing the responsible-looking white shirt." 

At that, Lorelai smirked. "Well, at least it's better than staying in the Gilmore prison." 

"_Mom_!" Rory scolded, shaking her head. "Don't say that!" 

Lorelai crossed her arms. "I'll say whatever I want. After growing up in that hell, I can say whatever I want about it." 

Rory smiled. "It's not that bad, Mom." 

"You say that now," Lorelai wagged her finger. "After your little stay there, you'll be joining my ranks, little girl." 

"I can't believe that you're making me stay there," Rory mumbled. 

Moments later, she felt the bed move and felt her mother's arms around her. "I know, I'm sorry, sweetie. But I'm gonna be gone for 5 days, I can't just leave you here. I never thought I'd say this, but I know I'll feel better if you stayed with Mom and Dad." 

"I know." 

Rory was enjoying the silence and peace of the moment when suddenly, Lorelai jumped up. She crawled over Rory's form and leaned down. When she turned back to face Rory, she pumped her fist in the air in victory with the responsible-looking white shirt in her other hand. 

"I found it!" 

* * * * * 

(The next day. Chilton) 

Another day at Chilton had passed; the weekend was now a day closer and she would finally be able to get much-needed rest and respite from school. She trudged slowly to her locker, eager to lighten the load of her bag. 

Rory cheered up at the thought of getting a cup (or many cups) of Luke's wonderful coffee but remembered that she would not be going back to Stars Hollow today. For the next 5 days, she would call her grandparents' large estate in Hartford home while Lorelai was in New York for her convention. Five days without Lorelai. Five days without Luke's coffee. The rustle of keys as she put down her bag reminded her that Lorelai had given her free rein of the jeep. She smiled at the thought of driving to Stars Hollow and getting herself cups and cups of Luke's coffee. 

"Rory." 

The smile was wiped off when she heard the familiar voice next to her. For the last few days, he had kept his distance from her. She was relieved, glad even, that she had gotten through to him. But a tiny part of her told her that she had been too harsh on him. Something told her that he wasn't all bad. But it was done, and her pride wouldn't let her apologize to him. 

After taking out the books she wanted, she closed her locker and turned to him, waiting expectantly for what he had to say. 

Tristan discreetly wiped his sweaty palms on his pants, unnerved by the way she was looking at him. He had stayed away from her; it was difficult but he did it. Just because he stayed away didn't mean he didn't notice her. Oh no, in fact he noticed her even more than before. He had the opportunity to watch her from a distance and he realized that he learnt more about her that way. He knew the way she'd skip lunch and head to the library. He knew the way she tried to see nonchalant in the face of one of Paris' verbal barbs. He knew the exact colour of her eyes; a vivid electric blue like no other he had seen. He knew the way she always bit her lip whenever she was mulling over something. 

And he knew that he had to apologize. For being a jerk, for just... 

He took a deep breath before speaking. "Look Rory, I just wanted to apologize." 

Rory's brow arched in confusion and surprise but she didn't say anything. 

"I've been nothing but a jerk to you," he went on. 

"Damn right," Rory muttered. 

"I just... I'm sorry." 

Rory smiled, and Tristan felt his breath catch. "Apology accepted." 

The tension in his body flowed out and Tristan found himself leaning against the locker next to hers. "So, you going home?" 

"To my grandparent's actually. Mom is away and I'm staying with them." 

His smile widened. "How about I drive you there?" 

Rory smiled but shook her head no. "It's ok. I can get there by myself." 

Tristan didn't think about the next words that left his lips. "Awww, come on, Mary. You know you want to." 

At the mention of the unwanted nickname, Rory balked and the smile fell off her lips. She gathered her stuff and walked away. 

Tristan wanted to kick himself. '_Idiot._' He slapped a hand to his forehead, then started to go after her. He finally caught up with her at the parking lot, when she was getting into the jeep. He reached out to lightly touch her arm which earned him a dirty look. He pulled away. 

"Rory, I'm sorry. It just came out. I didn't-" 

Rory turned the ignition, then faced him. She couldn't conceal her anger. "I should have known better than to think that you could actually be _nice_. Go away Tristan." 

She didn't wait for him to respond but sped out of the parking lot. 

* * * * * 

Tristan barely took notice of his surroundings as he drove home. He was still thinking about what had happened with Rory. He shook his head wryly, somehow not even surprised that things had turned out the way it did. When it came to her, it seemed like he could do nothing right. 

It had now been two months since he first set eyes on her. Two months since she turned his world upside down. Two months in which he had gained no ground with her whatsoever. Two months of her rejection. 

It had been two months, yet he hadn't given up, moved on to another conquest. There was just something about her that made him come back for more. He fought it at first, but that only made things worse. Denial was a difficult place to be, and Tristan never did like it there. He had felt a mixture of relief and dread when he finally admitted to himself that he liked her. 

He had pulled out every trick he had, every ploy he could think of to make her go out with him but nothing worked. In fact, he seemed to enrage her even more. The come-backs were sharper, harsher and each was like an arrow piercing his fragile heart. 

Tristan DuGrey wasn't a quitter... but even he could see that it was lost cause he was fighting. 

Rory Gilmore would never fall in love with him. 

* * * * * 

Rory was seething during the drive to her grandparents' house. _The nerve of him_.... 

She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself and get rid of the anger that was festering inside of her. '_Music. I'll switch on some music. That will get my mind off of him,_' she told herself. 

Taking her eyes off the road for a moment, she fiddled with the radio. In her frazzled stated, she couldn't find the button to switch it on. She heaved a sigh when the sounds of "Drive" by Incubus blared through the sound system. The sigh turned into a gasp as Rory finally noticed the dog that was scampering across the road. In an attempt to avoid hitting the animal, Rory swerved the jeep.... 

And hit a tree. 

The impact of the hit sent her body flying forward, but her seat belt held her securely to the seat. However, she hit her head hard on the steering wheel. 

Before she could even do anything, Rory felt blackness descend upon her. 

* * * * * 

He was turning into the street leading to his house when he noticed the jeep. He recognized it immediately, and he felt fear start to rise within him. He pulled up behind the vehicle and when he saw the smoke rising from the hood of the jeep, his fear escalated. Cautiously he approached the driver's seat. 

A gasp from wrenched from his throat when he saw Rory's head lying lifelessly on the steering wheel. Without hesitating, he ran back to his car and reached for his cell phone. 

* * * * * 

A.N. : Okay... so nothing much happened here. _Just you wait_. The fun stuff begins with the next part! :D 


	2. Bed Of Lies

A.N : Thanks so much for the reviews! What can I say? I'm a feedback whore. :D Here's more... (after much stressing on my part. Heehee.) 

*** * * * ***   
**Something To Remember**   
**by inmyeyes**   
**Part 2**

(A while later. Hartford Hospital.) 

Tristan found that he couldn't sit still. 

He had driven himself crazy with all sorts of horrible scenarios playing in his mind while he anxiously waited for the ambulance to arrive. What had happened? Would Rory be all right? He wanted desperately to hold her, somehow thinking that he could protect her if she was in his arms but he didn't dare to move her. So instead, he comforted himself by reaching out and lightly grasping her hand, trying to infuse his strength into her. The steady beat of her pulse underneath his fingertips reassured him that she was still alive and breathing. 

It only took about 10 minutes for the ambulance to arrive, but in Tristan's mind, it took a lifetime that seemed to stretch on and on. He had heaved a loud audible sigh of relief and in his heart, he knew that everything would be okay. After lightly kissing Rory's pale cheek which was streaked with her blood, he said a silent prayer before following the ambulance to the hospital. 

And there he was, still waiting. 

With all the pacing he was doing, he wouldn't have been surprised if the carpet lining the floor of the waiting room had been worn out. His jaw clenched in worry, he ran his hand haphazardly through his already messy hair. 'Please, let her be all right,' he prayed. 

He had just taken a seat in one of the hard, uncomfortable chairs in the austere room when he heard the sound of a throat being cleared. His head snapped up, and he hastily rose to his feet. 

"Are you here for Lorelai Gilmore?" the doctor asked. When Tristan acknowledged this with a terse nod, he went on. "She's in a stable condition. No internal injuries, just a few bruises that will heal in time. Everything is okay." Tristan held his breath when he noticed the doctor's hesitation. "However," and Tristan's heart sunk at the word, "She hit her head hard and the concussion caused some short-term amnesia." The doctor was aware of the worried look in the young man's eyes, and hurried to reassure him. "Her memory will come back. It's just a matter of time." 

Tristan swallowed hard, half-relieved that Rory was all right, half-worried over her loss of memory. "So she'll be all right?" 

"She'll be good as new," the doctor smiled. 

"Can I see her?" 

"Of course." 

Tristan followed meekly behind, as the doctor led the way to Rory's room. When they were standing a few feet from her bed, he stopped Tristan, laying a hand on the boy's shoulder. 

"She's sleeping right now, and she'll probably be sleeping until tomorrow morning. You can come back tomorrow to see her," the doctor advised. Almost as an afterthought, he asked, "Have you contacted her family yet?" 

At the question, Tristan's eyes widened in alarm as he realized that he had forgotten to call the Gilmores. 

"No, I haven't yet. Her mother's away and she's staying with her grandparents. I'll give them a call after this," he said. With that said, he took tentative steps towards Rory's bed, almost afraid to touch her. She lay seemingly motionless, her dark hair a stark contrast to the crisp white sheets of the hospital bed. On her forehead was a strip of white gauze. Her long eyelashes fanned her cheeks and Tristan thought that there was a surreal, ethereal kind of beauty in her, something akin to a fallen angel. 

For those few seconds, the doctor stood from a distance away, watching. The one thought that crossed his mind was that the boy was definitely in love with her, or least close to it. '_Young love_,' he mused, smiling slightly before leaving to give them privacy. 

Tristan's hand slowly snaked over to Rory's which was lying limply at her side. Carefully, he clasped her hand with his, intertwining his long slender fingers with hers. The small touch gave me immeasurable relief. He sank down on the chair next to the bed, sighing in exhaustion. For a long while, he just sat there; his hand in hers, watching her and assuring himself that she really was all right. 

Finally, he reluctantly stood up, remembering that he had yet to inform the Gilmores about what had happened. He leaned down, planting a soft kiss on her pale lips before disentangling his fingers from hers. 

"Sweet dreams, Rory," he whispered. 

* * * * * 

(Later that night.) 

A loud beeping noise pierced through her consciousness, and with an effort, Rory pried her eyes open, blinking to clear her blurry vision. All she saw was whiteness of the ceiling and when she looked around, she found that she was the only one in the pristine white room. Her brow furrowed in confusion which caused her to grimace as the throbbing in her head increased. She closed her eyes against the sharp pain, taking deep breaths to slow her heartbeat. When she opened her eyes again, she found that she was not alone in the room. 

"How are you feeling, sweetie?" came the concerned voice as the nurse came up to her and started checking her IV. 

Rory tried to smile, but she knew that it probably looked more like a wince. "My head hurts," she proclaimed, her voice scratchy. 

The nurse merely smiled, patting her shoulder lightly in consolation. "There, there. It'll be fine. You just need to get more sleep." 

Rory could do nothing but nod. 

"A little while ago, your grandparents came in to check on you but you were still asleep. They'll be coming back tomorrow to see you, dear." 

_Grandparents_? Rory forced her frazzled brain into operation but nothing came to mind. Before she could ask anything, the nurse had already went on. 

"Oh, and that sweet boy, of course. He was here by your bed side, right until the end of visiting hours. Such an angel he was. He looked exhausted, the poor thing." She finally stopped talking, and noticed the perplexed look in the girl's eyes. She smiled and reached down to pull the blanket tighter around the young girl. "You just sleep." 

And despite all the questions that were running through her mind, she fell asleep a few moments later. 

* * * * * 

(Friday morning. Hospital) 

"Rory!" 

The loud cry shook her out of her light nap, and before she even think, a pair of arms were strewn over her. Looking beyond the woman's shoulder, she noticed the elderly man standing behind her. Not knowing what to do, she gave a tentative smile and was rewarded with a bright smile from the man. In her mind, she put the pieces together. 

Her grandparents. 

She expected to feel some sort of recognition or relief or something... but all she felt was this big gaping hole. 

And then she realized something. "What did you call me? What's my name? Why can't I remember my name?" Her tone had steadily increased in panic and urgency as she fought to make sense of what was happening. In her state, she barely noticed the worry that creased her grandmother's forehead. 

The man put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, a gesture that calmed her somewhat. "You're just got a case of temporary amnesia. It'll all come back in time." 

"What's my name?" she repeated, feeling an overwhelming urge to know _who_ she was... and her name was the first step to that. 

"Your name's Rory Gilmore, dear," the woman supplied, smiling gently as she pushed an errant strand of hair behind Rory's ear. "I'm your grandmother, Emily Gilmore." She gestured to the man beside her. "And that's Richard, your grandfather." 

_Rory Gilmore_. In her head, she replayed the name over and over before she finally spoke it out loud, testing how it sounded. The big black gaping hole in her mind remained, but the sense of hopelessness that had consumed her earlier was gone. 

"Tell me everything you know about me." 

* * * * * 

(Later that day. Hospital) 

Tristan opened the door as noiselessly as he could, not wanting to wake Rory if she was asleep. 

His hunch had been right; she was asleep but this time, the sight of her lying on that bed did not scare him as much as it did the day before. Her face had regained some of its colour, making her look more like the Rory he knew. He sighed in relief, but he felt the exhaustion catch up with him. 

After leaving Rory the night before, he had barely gotten any sleep. He tossed and turned in his bed, his mind thinking of nothing but her. A few times, he had gotten out of bed to get dressed and sneak his way back into her room, but each time, he talked himself out of it. And when he had finally fallen asleep, it seemed like only minutes before he was awoken by his alarm, signalling the start of the new school day. 

School hadn't been any good either. He felt restless and thoughts of Rory forever bogged down his mind. When last period was finally over, he shot out of his chair, ran to the parking lot and sped to the hospital. 

And now, standing at the foot of her bed, he felt the tension ebb out of him. Slowly, he plopped himself in the empty chair, reaching instinctively for her hand. He lightly kissed her palm, his free hand resting on her cheek and slowly caressing it. After a few moments, he leaned his head on her stomach. Before he knew it, he was asleep, his mind finally free from worry. 

* * * * * 

When Rory was roused from her sleep, she felt a heavy, yet comfortable weight on her torso. Puzzled, she tilted her head down but all she could see was a halo of messy blonde hair. She slowly scooted up a little bit, careful not to wake the sleeping boy. She was strangely soothed by the sight of the boy whose head was lying on her stomach. Sure, she had no idea who the hell he was, but something at the back of her mind told her that he was special. Special to her. 

Carefully, she took her hand from his, only to lightly touch his cheek with the back of her hand. The feeling of his smooth, warm skin overcame her and a wave of emotion, which she could not classify, washed over her. Smiling slightly, her hand made its way to the back of his neck, then she proceeded to bury her fingers in his unbelievably soft hair. 

Her eyes drank in the sight of him; taking note of the aristocratic arch of his nose, the eyelashes lying softly on his cheek and lips that looked so soft and inviting. She also noticed the expanse of tanned skin that was exposed by the top two undone buttons of blue shirt he was wearing and the muscular forearm that was lying on the side of the bed. 

'_He certainly looks like an angel_,' she mused, remembering the nurse's words from the night before. 

Tristan was slowly dragged from his restful sleep by the feeling of soft fingers raking through his hair. He sighed, a low throaty sigh of contentment before slowly opening his eyes, taking a moment to adjust to the bright light. And when he realized that it was Rory who was running her fingers through his hair, he almost jumped in surprise. 

The surprise increased tenfold when his eyes met hers. She was looking at him in a way she never had before; a look that was part wonder, part fascination and a whole lot of interest. And she was smiling at him too, smiling in that sweet and yet heart-wrenching way she had. He felt a large pang of hope start to rise in his chest as he lazily smiled back at her, his own hand coming up to lightly stroke her cheek. 

Then he remembered; Rory had amnesia. 

Hope died. 

He struggled to keep the smile on his face, but after a while, he realized that it was easy... because she made it so easy for him to smile. 

Rory bit her lip, a contemplative look in her eyes. "Who are you?" she finally asked. 

"Tristan DuGrey." 

She just sat there for a few minutes, looking him right in the eye... or was it looking straight through him and into his soul? Tristan couldn't be sure. He kept his gaze levelled with hers, hoping that whatever it was she was searching for in his eyes, she would find. His hand found hers and he squeezed it reassuringly. 

She was trying to listen to her instinct, that's what she was doing. There was something about Tristan which struck a deep chord in her, but for the life of her, she couldn't figure out exactly what it was he evoked in her. Love? Concern? Passion? Dislike? Indifference? Hatred? She didn't know, so she figured that the best thing to do was to follow her instinct. 

"There's something going on between us." It was a statement, not a question. Rory realized that the loss of her memory had made her more candid and blunt. Whatever was going on in her mind, she voiced it. 

Tristan licked his lips in nervousness, his brain working over-time to process her loaded question. "Yes," he answered uncertainly, "I guess you could say so." There _was_ something going on with Rory and him. Granted, that something was more on his side than on Rory's but it wasn't a complete lie. There surely was _something _between them, a kind of fire that got out of control fast. 

Rory's eyes narrowed slightly in wonderment as her gaze never faltered from his. "You're special." 

Tristan chuckled lightly, brushing her hair back. "I'd say the same about you," he admitted. 

"This _thing_ between us... it's more than just a something, isn't it?" she asked quietly, her heart clenching as something in her wished that it was more than just a something. 

He was so caught up in the sparkling blue of her eyes and the feeling of her hand in his that he didn't think at all before speaking, verbalizing his heart's wish. "Yes, we're dating." 

* * * * * 

A.N : _Sooooo_... does all this new information help? See where this story is going? Heeheee. Much more fun to come! 


	3. Music Of The Heart

A.N : As always, thanks for the awesome reviews! They make me happy :-) And please, read through the pretty song lyrics in the chapter. 

*** * * * ***   
**Something To Remember**   
**by inmyeyes**   
**Part 3**

  
  
  


It took a long moment for his mind to register his words; he was too busy revelling in her shy smile and the way her hand tightened almost imperceptibly in his. But when the wave of his lie washed over him, a stab of... what was it? Guilt? Yes, it was guilt that coursed fiercely through his veins. 

Tristan had long ago realized that he would never be good enough for Rory. His soul was soiled, his heart too hard, his intentions too impure for someone like her. But this... this was just too low, even for Tristan DuGrey. But the words were spoken, the bond was made and as he cast his eyes downward, he also knew that he couldn't take the words back. Rory was already in a fragile condition, and revealing the lie _now_ wouldn't do her any good. She needed some sort of stability, and Tristan wanted to be the one whom she could turn to. Of course, Tristan was no fool; he knew that his lie would have repercussions. As the doctor said, Rory would regain her memory eventually... and when she did, she would maim- no, she would murder him in cold blood for his deception, cut his body into tiny pieces and feed them to the sharks. 

Even then, a tiny voice in his head told him that it would be worth it. He was evil, manipulative and deceitful for playing Rory this way and taking advantage of her, but the lure of being close to her, being someone that she would turn to and him being able to openly care for her was too much for him to resist. 

"Guess what?" he suddenly asked, breaking the short silence in the air. His voice was deceptively cheerful, not betraying the inner battle he was waging. 

Her smile was wide. "What?" 

"You can go home!" He didn't think her smile could have gotten any wider but it did. "I bumped into the doctor on my way here and he told me that you're discharged from hospital. I called your grandparents and they're coming to pick you up." 

On an impulse, Rory threw her arms around the boy in front of her, her arms wrapping tightly around him. Tristan caught her in his arms, his hand lightly stroking her back. He felt her body shake slightly against his and he smiled at the sound of her loud, joyful laugh. She pulled back a little, her hands still resting on his shoulders. Her eyes were full of excitement, an emotion that Tristan found was contagious because he found himself grinning back at her. 

"So I'm going home?" _Home_. The word had never sounded so good to her. Home was a root to her past and her life and Rory couldn't wait to see it. 

"You're going to your grandparents' house," he corrected. And when he saw her face fall slightly, he rushed to reassure her. "It'll be fine. I'll be with you as often as I can." 

"Can't I go back to Stars Hollow?" she pleaded, her eyes silently begging him and Tristan could feel himself weakening. He took a deep breath, reaching out and cupping her cheeks lightly. 

"You know you can't, Ror. Your mom won't be back until Monday. It'll be safer for you to be with your grandparents," he reasoned. He suddenly grinned cheekily, and Rory could feel her heart start to race. "Plus, you'll be with me," he added. 

Rory returned the grin. "Oh, what a lucky girl I am!" she exclaimed, her voice laced with sarcasm. 

"Of course, you are!" Tristan agreed. "You're _my _girlfriend, aren't you?" The phrase 'my girlfriend' flowed smoothly from his lips as though it fit perfectly well with the mention of Rory in the same sentence. 

"All the poor girls in the queue," Rory remarked in mock-sadness, shaking her head slightly. 

Tristan took the bait. "What queue?" 

Rory matched his smirk. "The queue of girls lining up to be your girlfriend." 

Tristan chuckled, pulling her against him and leaning his head on her shoulder. This was nice. It was more than _nice_. Hugging Rory brought him warmth and a feeling of ease that he had never felt before. "Well, they're gonna have a long wait ahead of them," he mumbled. "I plan on being with you for a long time." He felt Rory's arm wrap closer around him. 

Maybe things would work out in the end. 

* * * * * 

(Late Friday evening. Gilmore residence. Hartford) 

In the eerie silence, the lone note struck a discord. Barely a second later, the small room was filled with the sweet sounds of the piano. 

He loved music. He was incredibly open to all genres of music and an entire wall in his room was full of CDs. There was something in music that called out to him; be it a slow, haunting melody that could never leave his mind, thought-provoking lyrics that made him wonder or just a song that was pretty to listen to. He found that music was the perfect medium for him to express himself, his thoughts and feelings. Whenever he was feeling especially miserable and disillusioned with his life, the sounds of Incubus and the Dave Matthews Band could be heard through his closed door. When he was getting ready for a date, he'd be listening to Jay-Z or Blackstreet. 

And when he thought of Rory Gilmore, Brian McKnight was his medicine of choice. 

On their own accord, his fingers ran across the piano keys unerringly. Under his breath, he sang along to the music in a soft voice.   


_Do I ever cross you your mind, anytime?_   
_Do you ever wake up reaching out for me?_   
_Do I ever cross your mind, anytime?_   
_I miss you..._   


His rich baritone fell to a silent whisper as he finished playing the song. The action was automatic; even though his mind was busy thinking about what he had done, his fingers made no mistake. As the last note hung in the air, light clapping brought him out of his reverie. Stunned, his head snapped to the doorway where Rory was leaning against the door frame, her form creating a dark silhouette against the bright light shining from the hallway. 

After arriving at the house, exhaustion had overcome her and she had fallen into a sleep. When she had awakened, darkness engulfed her; the only source of light was the faint light from the hallway that streamed in through the door that lay ajar. She was content to just lay on the soft bed, buried under mountains of blankets. For the first time in two days, she was infused with a sense of peace despite the fact that the big gaping hole in her mind never ceased to exist. She was in a safe place, in the hands of her grandparents... and with Tristan. 

Thinking of him brought with it a myriad of emotions; nervousness because there seemed to be a powerful, undeniable force between them, flutters in her stomach because of the way he made her feel, fear of the unknown, a sense of rightness as though they were meant to be. Rory wished so much that she would remember him, because she felt that she was missing in on so much that had happened between them. She wanted to know how they met, their first date, the first time they kissed... she wanted to know everything, and she wanted to know him. 

Tristan seemed to her like an enigma waiting to be solved. And she wanted to be the one who solved it. 

When the sound of music drifted to her ears, her curiousity had driven her to find its source. And it led her to Tristan. The carpeted floor allowed her to noiselessly creep into the room. A tiny smile playing about her lips, she leaned against the door frame, her eyes shining with appreciation for Tristan's obvious expertise in playing the instrument and the love for music that radiated off his being. There was something melancholy in the air and it was reflected in him. His back was slightly slumped, his fingers moving leisurely over the keys, his voice tinged with bittersweet emotion when he sung in a low voice. 

"I didn't know you could play," she said, taking a few steps into the room. But then her beautiful countenance was marred by a frown. "I'm sorry. I probably did know. I just... don't know _now._" 

Smiling encouragingly at her, he lightly patted the empty space on the piano bench next to him. "Come here." When she situated herself next to him, he took hold of her hands, laying them flat against his own. Then he guided them to the piano keys. Slowly, with his fingers on hers, he guided them to play the same melody that he had played earlier. His actions brought a low squeal of glee from Rory. 

After a few moments, his hands fell from hers and silence enveloped the room. 

"Could you do me a favour?" she asked, hesitating slightly. 

Tristan smiled wryly. If only she knew that he would go to the ends of the world for her. "Anything." 

"Take me away from here." 

"What?" 

Rory sighed, then she turned to fully face him. Her hand made its way to his, clutching it tightly. "I don't want to be in this house, Tristan. Just take me someplace for a few hours." 

And when she was looking at him that way, her blue eyes wide and pleading, he couldn't say no. 

* * * * * 

"Mother! Let me speak to Rory!" Lorelai demanded, her voice taking on a tone of frustration. 

"I told you, Lorelai. She's not at home. She's out," Emily explained calmly, her thoughts centered on the pile of papers in front of her. "Now, please, stop with this nonsense. I need to get back to these papers. I have a charity benefit dinner to plan, Lorelai." 

Lorelai snorted in derision. "Rory was in a accident two days ago and she has amnesia. Yet you let her go out? What were you thinking?" 

Emily sighed. "You make it sound like I sent her out to be eaten alive by wolves. Rory's perfectly fine. She's with the DuGrey boy." 

"The DuGrey boy? You mean, _Tristan DuGrey_? Why is he-" 

Emily let out a deep breath in exasperation. "Lorelai, Rory is all right. You don't have to come back. You'll only be gone for a few more days, and she'll be fine staying with us. Tristan is a perfectly nice boy and he's been spending time with Rory which is a good thing. Between this benefit dinner and your father's busy schedule, we're spending all the time we can with her." 

"But-" 

Emily's tone was sharp. "There are no buts. Rory is fine. I'll tell her you called. We'll see you in a few days, Lorelai." 

Before Lorelai could say anything, she heard a loud click. And just as she was starting to re-dial her mother's number, there was a loud crackle over the P.A system and an annoyingly chirpy voice rang through the auditorium. 

Dinner time was over. Taking a large chug of the remaining coffee in the cup she was holding, Lorelai sighed deeply. Back the convention. 

* * * * * 

(_The Garage_. Hartford) 

Taking her hand in his, Tristan led Rory into the small, cozy establishment. Before they went through the doors, Rory caught sight of a sign that read 'The Garage' in neon green light above the doors. A few feet into the cafe and Rory stopped. The beauty in the simplicity of the decor made her gasp. She looked around, taking note of some of the colourful and bright furniture, the sofas which just screamed of comfort, the lava lamps, the parquet flooring and the stark white walls. The cafe was half-filled with an eclectic mix of people; some young, some not so young, dressed in an assortment of styles but all showing a feeling of ease and happiness in being with friends and enjoying good company. 

She felt a light tug on her hand, and looked up to see Tristan smiling at her. He led her to a more secluded area of the cafe where there was an empty two-seater sofa which had a pile of cushions on it. Giggling happily, Rory ran ahead of Tristan, flopping down unceremoniously on the soft sofa and scattering the cushions. She chucked off her sandals and curled up on the sofa, hugging a cushion to her chest. 

Tristan couldn't help but return her impish grin. In an unconscious move, he leaned down and placed a light kiss on her forehead. "I'll be back in a few minutes," he whispered. 

It was the familiar aroma of freshly brewed coffee that alerted Rory to the fact that Tristan was coming back. In a smooth move, she jumped up, grabbed the cup from his hands and sat back down within 3 seconds. Rory closed her eyes in bliss as the sweet smell of her elixir of life consumed her. And when she took a sip of the liquid, the groan that was wrenched from her lips was involuntary. 

From his place beside her, Tristan hid his amused smile from her. "So, I take it that you didn't forget your love of coffee?" 

Rory's eyes drew open as she took a larger sip of the drink, her hands clutching the mug protectively. "I could never forget coffee. It would be blasphemous!" 

For a few minutes, a comfortable silence settled over them; Rory was enjoying her coffee and Tristan was enjoying watching her. 

The sound of a throat being cleared startled them both. Rory's eyes met Tristan's in a silent question. 

"Tonight's the open mic night," he clarified. 

Swallowing the last of her coffee, Rory set the mug down on the table in front of them. A question was on the tip of her tongue but a small part of her hesitated. Rory unclenched her fists and decided to just take a chance. Slowly but surely, she inched her way closer to him as the guy who was sitting on the stool on the raised platform started to strum his guitar. 

_You make me smile_   
_You make me sad_   
_You're every dream_   
_I've ever had_   
_But now I'm without you, baby_   
_Nothing's the same_

_It took a while it took some time_   
_It took an honest man to find_   
_The truth deep inside this broken heart_   
_Now mended with shame_   
_With shame_

_Well it's all I can do to be honest and true_   
_Talking with you till the dawn_   
_It seems kinda strange_   
_I know you've rearranged_   
_The tracks of the train you're on_   


Somehow, Tristan sensed that Rory needed to feel close to him. Beneath the pile of cushions, his hand sought hers, his thumb slowly stroking the back of her hand. Encouraged, Rory scooted closer still and held her breath. When Tristan took his hand from hers and draped his arm around her shoulders, she exhaled slowly. She moved closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder.   


_Still, would it be kind if I told you my mind_   
_Was slowly consumed by you?_   
_Or would it be right if tonight I held you tight_   
_And showed you what i'm going through_

_When I think of my reasons_   
_They change like the seasons_   
_Winter, spring, summer and fall_   
_You think maybe I'd take some time out to cry_   
_And just rid myself of it all_

_But there's something about you_   
_I know that without you_   
_I'm lost and I can't find my way_   
_So just tell me right now_   
_There's some way or somehow_   
_Tell me you want me_   
_And baby I'll stay_   
_Stay shamefully stay_   
_Baby I'll stay_   


Tristan's fingers played with the silky strands of her hair as the clear sounds of the beautiful song wafted around them. '_This_,' he thought, '_is what happiness feels like._' It was so easy for him to pretend that this was all real; that Rory was with him because she cared for him, that nights like this one were yet possible in the future. Being with Rory felt so natural and so _right_ that it pained him to think that it was all based on a lie. Almost as though to reassure himself, he absently leaned down and kissed her nose.   


_Well I'd swallow my pride_   
_And then I'd keep it deep down inside_   
_Of this broken heart_   
_And I'll treat you the way_   
_That I didn't that day_   
_You decided that we'd fallen apart_

_I don't want it the way it was_   
_Baby that's just because_   
_I know I wasn't for real_

_Seems I'm lost deep in thought_   
_But all I was ever taught_   
_Was to tell the girl just how I feel_   


Rory practically purred in bliss. The warmth of his firm body made her feel safe and protected. She cuddled closer yet, one of her hands finding its way to his chest and resting just above his heart. Its strong, steady beat was reassuring. Tilting her head up, her eyes locked on his stormy blue eyes. "Thank you," she murmured. 

"For what?" he asked, just as quietly. That same pang of guilt that had assaulted him earlier resurfaced. She had nothing to thank him for. 

"For... everything. For being here with me." 

Tristan smiled; a soft, tender smile that made Rory's breath catch. "Where else would I be?"   


_'Cause you know that in time_   
_You think I might change my mind_   
_and do this all over again_   
_I just gotta be clear I'm not sure what you fear_   
_but I promise I'll love you my friend_

_'Cause there's something about you_   
_I know that without you_   
_I'm lost and I can't find my way_   
_So just tell me right now_   
_There's some way or somehow_   
_Tell me you want me_   
_And baby I'll stay_   
_Stay so shamefully stay_   
_Lady I'll stay_   
_You know that I'll stay_   
_So shamefully stay_

_'Cause you know that in time_   
_You think I might change my mind_   
_And do this all over again_   
_I just gotta be clear I'm not sure what you fear_   
_But I promise I'll love you my friend_   


When Rory's attention went back to the singer who was performing, his eyes snapped shut in pain. Tristan didn't think he'd be able to withstand the next few days with Rory being close and within his reach. It was a sweet sort of torture that he had trapped himself in, knowing that each moment that passed meant that there was a moment less to spend with her. 

Worst yet, he didn't think he'd be able to survive Rory regaining her memory.   


_'Cause there's something about you_   
_I know that without you_   
_I'm lost and I can't find my way_   
_So just tell me right now_   
_There's some way or somehow_   
_Tell me you want me_   
_Then baby you know I'm gonna_   
_You know I'm gonna stay_   
_I'm begging baby please_   
_Just ask me to stay_

* * * * * 

Song credits: "Anytime" by Brian McKnight, "Shame" by Tony Lucca. 

* * * * * 


	4. The Best Things In Life Are Free

*** * * * ***   
**Something To Remember**   
**by inmyeyes**   
**Part 4**

(Saturday morning. Gilmore residence. Hartford) 

"Good morning, dear. Did you sleep well?" 

Rory planted a light kiss on her grandmother's cheek and smiled brightly. "Good morning, I had a good sleep." She walked around the table to take her seat. "Where's Grandpa?" 

"He had to go to the office. Something about an emergency," Emily frowned. The frown turned into a smile when she noticed the light in her granddaughter's eyes. "Did you have fun with Tristan last night?" 

Rory practically lit up at the mention of his name. "I had a wonderful time. Grandma, you don't mind if I go out with him today, do you?" 

Emily smiled, reaching out to pat Rory's hand. "Of course not. You should go out and have fun. Besides, I have a million things to do for the dinner tomorrow!" 

Rory's brow furrowed in confusion. "Dinner?" 

A light laugh was drawn from Emily. "Oh dear, I forgot to tell you. There's a charity benefit dinner tomorrow, at the de la Tere Hall at 7pm. I've been planning it for weeks now. I'd love it if you would come, Rory." 

"Of course, I would, Grandma," Rory said. "But I don't have anything to wear." 

Emily shook her head. "Nonsense. There are a few dresses in your wardrobe, Rory. You can wear one of those or if you like, you can buy one. Oh, and invite Tristan along if you want to." 

* * * * * 

(A little while later) 

"So?" 

"So?" 

"You decide." 

"What? No way." 

"Oh come on, you know Hartford better than I do." 

Tristan laughed at the pouting that Rory was doing. "Oh, stop that! Fine, fine." 

Rory jumped up and squealed, throwing her arms around him. 

"You know, if you wanted a hug, you could have just asked," Tristan smirked. 

Rory rolled her eyes but lightly kissed his lips. "Get up. Let's get going." 

For a few seconds, Tristan was still, his mind still trying to recover from the feel of her soft lips on his. The action was so unexpected, so unconscious on her part and so natural that his heart felt like bursting from all the joy that radiated from it because of that one simple kiss. A sharp tug on his arm brought him back to reality. He looked up, only to see Rory frowning at him. 

"Are you feeling okay?" she asked, running a hand through his hair. 

He took hold of her hand, kissed her palm and smiled widely. "I'm feeling great. Let's go. I know just the place." 

* * * * * 

Rory took in the scene around her, then turned to look incredulously at the boy standing next to her, who was grinning smugly. 

"_This_? This is the great, wonderful place you were telling me about?" Her tone was filled with amusement. 

"What's wrong with it? It is great and wonderful," Tristan countered. 

"Tristan, you brought me to a a park," Rory stated. 

"That's where you're wrong," he disagreed. He lowered his voice to a whisper, as though sharing an important secret. "It's not just a a park." 

Rory rolled her eyes good-naturedly at the all-knowing smirk on his face. "Why? Did aliens land here? No wait, the grass is special, isn't it?" 

Tristan chuckled. "No, better still, it's my _favourite _park." 

"Wow, this must be some park. It passed the DuGrey test with flying colours to win the favourite park award," Rory said seriously. But one look in her eyes and Tristan knew that she was mocking him. 

"Of course. The trees here provide fabulous shade. The benches are sturdy and have messages of love scribbled on them. The water sprinklers are in perfect order, and they have the best playground." 

"The best playground? I must see this." 

* * * * * 

(Early afternoon. The park) 

"It's a dog." 

"No, it's not. It's a plane." 

"A plane? Are we even looking at the same thing?" 

"Well, I'm looking at that cloud that looks like a plane." 

"It does _not _look like a plane!" 

"Now, that one... that's a plane." 

"Oh please, that is so totally a bird!" 

"Is not." 

Rory turned her head to look at the boy who was laying beside her on the warm grass. "You know, you suck at this game." 

At her words, he too turned his head to face her, smirking. "No, I just have more imagination." 

"Yeah... seeing things that aren't there." 

Tristan just grinned. 

Rory's eyes turned back to the blue sky above her, but her thoughts were still on him. He had surprised her; of all the places she had expected him to bring her to, the park was never one of her options. But, as she had found out, Tristan loved going to the park and this really was his favourite park. He had brought her to the playground where they had spent hours playing by themselves, and with the kids who were there. They helped the kids build some sand castles, they played catch, they played some ball games with the young ones and challenged each other to see who could swing the highest. She had never felt so free or so happy to be alive. 

And she loved to watch him. There was this luminous glow in his eyes whenever he was playing with some of the kids and it warmed her heart to see that. While she admittedly still didn't know that much about him, she found that she was very perceptive when it came to him. And she had a feeling that that young, playful, carefree side of him didn't come out to play often enough. 

"Have you ever been in love?" 

"What?" Her question had invaded his train of thought. He had been busy replaying in his mind the time they had spent together just now. He was memorizing every smile, every laugh and every joyful glint in her eyes. He could easily recall her shriek of laughter when he had pushed her higher on the swing and the way she had smiled so brightly when a group of kids tried to tackle her. 

"Have you ever been in love?" she repeated. 

"No." 

"Why not?" 

He turned on his side, leaning up on an elbow and saw that Rory was carefully watching him.. He shrugged, his eyes not meeting hers. "I haven't found the right girl." _Until you came along_. He decided to turn the tables on her, even though he knew that she probably wouldn't be able to answer the question. "Have _you_ ever been in love?" 

Although his tone was teasing, she took the question seriously. Even with her blurry vision of her life, the answer was as clear as day to her. "No, I don't think so. I don't think I could forget that." She suddenly frowned, as though struck by something. "I have vague memories of this guy..." Her frown deepened. "I think we were together for a while." Then with certainty, she admitted, "I don't think I loved him though." 

Tristan swallowed thickly, knowing perfectly well that the guy in question was that- that bag boy. _Dean_. He fought to suppress the panic rising in his chest. She was getting back snippets of her memory, and when she finally recalled that Dean and her were _still_ together.... No, he wouldn't think about that. He shook his head, as though trying to kill the thoughts mulling in his head. Deciding to tread on safer ground, he changed the subject. "So, what do you wanna do now, my lady?" 

Rory couldn't resist returning his grin. "I have an idea." 

* * * * * 

(Gilmore residence. Hartford) 

"Ma'am, there's someone on the phone asking for Rory." 

Emily looked up from the guest list she was examining and accepted the telephone that was offered to her by the maid. "Hello, Emily Gilmore speaking. Who is this?" 

Dean swallowed down his nervousness, and tried to keep his voice cool. "Hi, Mrs. Gilmore. This is Dean. Can I speak to Rory?" 

"I'm sorry, Dean, but Rory's not at home. I'll tell her you called," Emily answered absently, her mind still focused on the list before her. 

He sighed. "Thank you." 

A moment later, Emily gasped in horror when she realized that she had missed some people out in the list. In the flurry of activity that followed, Dean's call was forgotten. 

* * * * * 

"Ok, so what exactly is this great idea of yours?" Tristan leaned against a lamp-post as Rory came back from the newsstand, clutching a copy of the local paper in her hands. "Oh wait, are we gonna fly paper airplanes?" 

Rory hit his shoulder with the rolled-up newspaper, rolling her eyes but managing to notice how handsome he looked whenever he laughed freely. "We let our fingers do the walking." As she pulled apart the newspaper, trying to find the 'Events' section, she snuck a look at him and immediately took note of the mischievous look in his eye. She stopped what she was doing, her eyes shooting daggers at him and waited for the comment that she was certain would come. 

"We let our fingers do the walking, eh? I know where my-" 

Again, he was smacked; this time, Rory hit the back of his head with her hand. "You are impossible," she muttered, but he could see hints of a smile on her face. 

He just grinned. "Impossible? I prefer incorrigible. Or maybe insufferable. Better yet, I like handsome and charming." 

Rory just tuned him out and grinned victoriously when she finally found the page she wanted. "Close your eyes," she instructed. 

Tristan's grin widened. "Wow. Exactly what are you gonna do to me, Rory?" He wriggled his brows suggestively. 

"I'll bash your head against this lamp-post if you don't do as I say," she offered. 

"How dominatrix of you," he leered. "I didn't know you had it in you." But he closed his eyes, although the smile remained firmly in place. 

"Give me your hand," she told him. When she saw him smirk, she laughed slightly. "And don't say anything." 

His lower lip jutted out in a pout, making him look like one of the young boys whom they had played with at the playground. "I wasn't going to say anything," he protested. 

"Sure, you weren't," Rory said disbelievingly. She took hold of his hand. "Okay, here's my brilliant plan. There's a list of things that are going on today in Hartford on this page. I want you to point, and we'll go to that whatever you pointed at." 

"_That's_ your brilliant plan?" 

"Right, this coming from the guy who told me about this _wonderful_ place and brought me to a park," she retorted. "Come on, just point at something. Anything." 

"Okay, okay. Sheesh, don't get your panties in a wad." He was ready for the impact of her hand slapping his arm. A laugh was wrenched from him. "All right, I'm pointing, I'm pointing!" 

He opened his eyes to see Rory's dark head in front of him, reading the small snippet on the page. In a gesture that seemed so natural to him, he slid his arms around her waist, pulling her back against his chest. He rested his chin on her shoulder and scanned the paragraph that Rory was pointing to. 

"Poetry-reading. Auden." He turned his head to plant a light kiss on her neck. "Not a bad choice." 

* * * * * 

(Hartford Library) 

Reaching back to take his hand, Rory led Tristan to the empty seats at the back of the room as noiselessly as she could, trying not to interrupt the girl who was reciting the poem at the front of the room. When they were finally seated, she didn't think of taking her hand away from his, too enraptured in the poetry.   
__

_Time will say nothing but I told you so,_   
_Time only knows the price we have to pay;_   
_If I could tell you I would let you know.___

_If we should weep when clowns put on their show,_   
_If we should stumble when musicians play,_   
_Time will say nothing but I told you so._   
__ __

As the words rolled off the girl's tongue, Rory found an odd familiarity in the poem. She bit her lip in confusion, trying to figure exactly what it was that was nagging at her. Then suddenly, she realized that she remembered the words of the poem. She tried to stifle the wide smile of triumphant at that tiny remembrance and started to mouth along to the words.   
__

_There are no fortunes to be told, although,_   
_Because I love you more than I can say_   
_If I could tell you I would let you know.___

_The winds must come from somewhere when they blow,_   
_There must be reasons why the leaves decay;_   
_Time will say nothing but I told you so._   
__ __

The feeling of her small hand in his sent a current of elation through his body. He realized that what he valued the most were those small, insignificant and unconscious touches that made him feel like she really cared for him and revealed how very comfortable she was in his presence. Sure, there were still those tense moments when he had to remind himself not to overstep any boundaries with her but those moments were few and far between. With her heart untainted by those foul memories of him, she was warm and giving and her smile sent his heart racing. But every time he felt himself soaring too high, the knowledge of his deceit sent him tumbling back to earth.   
__ __

_Perhaps the roses really want to grow,_   
_The vision seriously intends to stay;_   
_If I could tell you I would let you know.___

_Suppose the lions all get up and go,_   
_And all the brooks and soldiers run away;_   
_Will time say nothing but I told you so?_   
_If I could tell you I would let you know._   
__ __

Tristan turned his head, staring at her profile before smoothing back an errant strand of hair with his free hand. He instantly noticed the jubilant smile on her pretty features. "Why are you smiling?" he whispered, tightening his hand around hers. 

When the full blast of her smile hit him, he found that happiness made her eyes shine brighter. "The poem! I remember the poem, Tris. It's one of my favourites." 

His initial reaction was to share in her joy; he lifted up her hand that was encased in his, kissing the back of it lightly and matching his grin with hers. His grin faltered slightly when he realized that his charade would soon come to an end. 

* * * * * 

(Late that night. Gilmore residence. Hartford) 

Rory laughed at the babbling. "Mom! I'm fine, don't worry about me."   
  
On the other end, Lorelai sighed but she was relieved to hear her daughter laughing. "Of course I'll worry about you! You're my daughter." 

Rory leaned back against the pillows on her bed. "I know, but try not to." 

"How's the Evil One?" 

"Evil One?" Rory repeated, puzzled. 

Lorelai realized that she didn't remember the evil-doings of Bible Boy. "I meant Tristan. How is he?" She could hear the grin in Rory's voice when she answered which was surprising. 

"He's great. We went to the park today and we had so much fun. We played with some of the kids there, then we watched the clouds. And then we went to a poetry-reading and Mom," the excitement in her tone was evident, "I remembered some of the words of the poem. It was Auden's 'If I Could Tell You' and you know how much I love that poem. Remember when I did that for my 5th grade poetry recital and...." 

Lorelai's brow furrowed in confusion at Rory's description of Tristan which was so contrary to all the stories that Rory had relayed to her but she didn't dare question her. Rory didn't need any extra stress or confusion so she didn't voice her queries. '_Plus,_' she reasoned, '_it would be good if they were to become friends._' So instead, Lorelai just inquired more about their day and Rory was more than glad to tell her about it and about him. 

"I like him, Mom," she confessed. "I like him a lot. He's sweet and smart and he makes me laugh. And he has the best smile, Mom. When he smiles at me, I feel like I've been given some special gift." 

Lorelai didn't quite know what to say to that. 

Rory sighed softly. "I miss you, Mom." 

"I know, I miss you too." 

* * * * * 

(DuGrey residence. Hartford) 

The soft strains of Brian McKnight's rich voice resounded in the large room. There was complete darkness, except for the lamp on his desk that had been switched on. He lay unmoving atop the silk sheets of his large bed, his eyes staring unseeingly at the empty blankness above him. With a loud sigh, he sat up, threw the sheets away from him and strode to the sliding doors that led to his balcony. 

Once he was outside, he found that he could breathe easier but the heaviness of his heart, weighed down by lies, remained. 

Tomorrow was Sunday, the day of the dinner which Rory had shyly invited him to. It would also be his last full day with her before her mother returned... and before his lies would be eventually exposed.   


  


* * * * * Poem credit: "If I Could Tell You" by W.H. Auden 

* * * * * 

A.N : Wooo! Finally, I've finished this part. Sorry it took a while. This was a pesky one to write.   
Go on, hit the review button! ::shameless grin:: 


	5. Could It Be Magic?

A.N: Thanks for the reviews and special thanks to **Wiccan**for the poem. I did like it. :D Also, thanks to **Luce** for pimping out my site! Heehee. And **Shandra**, thank you so much for your wonderful e-mail, it made my day.   
And I apologize for any cheesiness... I've been reading too many romance novels. 

*** * * * ***   
**Something To Remember**   
**by inmyeyes**   
**Part 5**

  
  


(Sunday afternoon. DuGrey residence. Hartford) 

As she waited for someone to answer the door, Rory's fingers fiddled with the strap of her bag nervously. She was mentally planning what she'd say to him to explain her presence at his house and was so focused on her thoughts that he didn't notice when the heavy oak door swung open. 

"Rory?" 

At the sound of her name, she looked up, catching Tristan's blue eyes, mentally noting that he looked very good. "Um, hi." 

"Come in," he offered, moving aside so that she could enter. "What are you doing here?" 

Rory flushed as she followed him into the house. "Grandpa's at a business meeting and Grandma's busy with last minute details about the dinner. No one would be at home, so I got my grandma to drop me off here." She bit her lip. "I hope you don't mind." 

Tristan laughed, gesturing that she should take a seat. "Of course I don't." 

"I brought my dress," Rory said, holding up the garment bag. "I thought we could just go from here." 

Tristan leaned back against the leather couch and Rory couldn't help but notice the way his muscles stretched luxuriously beneath the white tank top he wore under the blue-checked shirt. She tore her eyes away from his torso only to see him smiling insolently at her. She had no doubt that he knew that she had been looking at him. "What?" 

"Nothing." He was still smiling at her in that infuriating way. 

She looked away from him and noticed the silence. "Where's everyone?" 

He just shrugged, but she saw him fidget uncomfortably. "My parents are away, somewhere and I sent the servants home." 

"You're all alone?" she asked, wondering how he could bear solitude in his huge, cold house. 

Tristan shrugged again, keeping his eyes averted from her questioning gaze. He kept his tone nonchalant. "It doesn't bother me." She didn't buy his lie, but before she could call him on it, he added, "Besides, I'm not alone anymore." His grin was lascivious. His diversion tactics worked: Rory rolled her eyes and threw a cushion at him, which he easily dodged. 

"So..." 

"So..." 

The two eyed each other for a few seconds before bursting out in laughter for no real reason. As their laughter tapered off, the look in his eyes sent a current running through her spine. Her own gaze was instantly drawn to his lips when he slowly ran his tongue over his lower lip. Rory almost wanted to groan aloud. She knew that he was aware of what he was doing to her; that infuriatingly knowing smirk was back. 

"Come sit over here," he offered, patting the empty space next to him. She arched her eyebrow, silently asking why. "I just want you near me." 

"Yeah.... since I'm like a continent away," she teased but a second later, she was up and seating herself on the leather couch; near enough to satisfy him but far enough for her sanity. But her sanity didn't last long; his arm came around her shoulders like a vise and tugged her closer to him until she was as close as she could be to him without getting on his lap. She tensed at the initial contact, bracing herself against the tremors that ran through her body at the warm feel of his body. Then, slowly, she relaxed, leaning her weight on him as she rested her head on his chest. '_Being near him is like a drug,_' she thought hazily. And she was a hopeless addict. 

"So, what do you wanna do?" 

Rory stifled a giggle at the light teasing tone in his voice. She pulled herself away from him but swung her arms to rest on his shoulders. His gaze was enough to make her want to throw caution to the wind, but she had a better plan. She tilted her head slightly, looking up at him through her lashes. As one of her hands came to caress the back of his neck, she slowly bit her lip, feigning a look of concentration. When his arms around her waist tightened, she hid her smile of victory. She leaned closer to him until she could feel his warm breath hitting her cheek. "I know what I wanna do," she whispered in his ear, making sure that her lips brushed the shell of his ear. She bit back a laugh as his fingers gripped her waist and she heard his breathing turn shallow. "I wanna..." She pushed herself away, grinning impishly. "get some coffee." 

Tristan found that he couldn't move, frozen by shock and the lust that ran rampant in his blood. By the time he managed to regain control of his senses, she was already half-way out of the room, on the hunt for the kitchen and the coffee machine. A few minutes later, he found her in his large, airy kitchen, fiddling with the coffee maker. Crossing his arms, he casually leaned against the kitchen island in the middle of the room, grinning cheekily. 

"Do you know how to work the coffee machine?" 

Rory's hands stilled as she turned to give him a scathing look. "Of course I do." Her tone was indignant. "It's a Gilmore survival skill." 

Using his arms for leverage, he pulled himself onto the counter and watched her struggle with the machine. He stifled a laugh when he heard her mutter inaudibly under her breath about "how the things in this damn house are all evil" but couldn't hold it in any longer when Rory switched tactics and started to speak cajolingly the coffee maker, asking it to "please work because I need my coffee." Jumping down from his perch, he finally offered his help and this time, Rory didn't resist, merely giving the machine an evil look. 

Once Rory got her cup of coffee and had fifty refills, the two headed out to the large garden. Rory took in the beautiful rose bushes, the large fountain in the middle of the garden and... a hammock? Tristan followed her as she made her way there, surprised that she'd head that way. Walking behind her, he took in her long, shapely legs topped by denim shorts and the sleek shoulders exposed by the white halter top that she wore. Her silky hair was secured in a high ponytail and Tristan had the greatest urge to walk up to her and just place a kiss on her neck. A tiny voice in his head reminded him that he could do that, since after all they were "dating". 

A few feet before they reached the hammock, Tristan looped his arms around her waist, eliciting a surprised squeal from Rory. Laughing, he nuzzled his head against her neck, placing tiny kisses along her shoulder, heading up to her neck and finally her cheek. At the contact, Rory's eyes involuntarily shut, just savouring the feeling. Before she could say anything, he took her hand and pulled her until they were standing next to the hammock. 

Moments later, they were securely lying on the hammock; Rory's head next to his, her arm thrown over his waist with his arms around her shoulders. The light swaying of the hammock had a calming effect; Rory's body relaxed as she pulled herself closer to Tristan's body and she closed her eyes against the sunlight that peeked through the shade provided by the leaves, lulled by the feel of his fingers tracing the skin on her shoulder. 

"I hate being alone." The admission jarred Rory from her relaxed state as she slightly shifted herself so that she could watch him. His eyes were closed, but his clenched jaw revealed to her the pain of his words. Reaching up, her fingers smoothed the skin at his jaw and at her touch, she saw him visibly relax. "They're always away, sometimes on business, sometimes for pleasure and those few times that they remember they have a son, they leave me a plane ticket. I didn't mind it so much when my grandfather was still alive; I used to spend a lot of time with him. We'd go fishing, golfing and just everything. He was like my best friend... until he passed away last year." Rory's hold on him tightened in response. "I don't like this house, and I try not to spend time here. I was about to go over to see you before you came." 

"I'm sorry." 

Tristan looked at her, managing a small smile. "Don't be." He paused, wondering if he should go on. "I love being with you, it just makes everything else in my life seem better." 

She smiled. "You don't have to be alone, Tristan. Not when you have me." 

* * * * * (That evening) 

"Rory! We have to get going," Tristan said, knocking lightly on the closed bathroom door. There was a short silence before he heard a thump and a muffled shriek. "Are you okay?" 

The door swung open and Rory tumbled out, wincing. "Yeah I'm fine, just stubbed my toe." 

Tristan wanted to laugh, but the sound got caught in his throat when he noticed how she looked. Her long hair pulled up with wavy strands framing her sweet face. The light blue heels she was slipping on was the same shade of the dress she was wearing. The silky material was held up by two thin straps, exposing a large expanse of creamy skin, its hem lightly skimming her knees. The dress was elegant, sleek and made her blue eyes seem even more brilliant. 

"Haven't anyone told you it's impolite to stare, Mr. DuGrey?" she teased, her hands reaching out to smooth down the lapels of his jacket. He looked at her, only to realize that she was standing much closer to him than he expected. His hands came up to hold hers against his chest. 

"Well, Miss Gilmore," he smirked. "How can I not stare at someone as beautiful as you?" 

"Such a charmer you are, Mr. DuGrey," she remarked, her smile wide. But he recognized the sarcasm behind her words and grinned. 

He took her hand, leading her out. "Always, Miss Gilmore. Always." 

* * * * * 

(Charity benefit dinner. De La Tere Hall. Hartford) 

"Grandma!" 

"Rory dear, there you are... I was wondering where you were," Emily exclaimed, hugging her granddaughter. "You look wonderful." 

"Thanks Grandma. This," she looked around the hall, "looks great." 

Emily beamed proudly before noticing the young man next to Rory. "Tristan, glad to see you here." 

Tristan smiled charmingly. "Wouldn't have missed it for the world." 

Rory smiled brightly. "We'll be around, Grandma. I'll see you later, it seems like you've got a lot to do." 

"All right, dear. I'll see you later." 

Moments later, the two of them had made their way to the table allotted to them. The table was empty and for a few minutes, the pair just sat there, looking at the mass of finely-dressed people in the room . 

"So what now?" Rory asked, tapping her fingers against the table. 

Tristan smiled as he stood up. He took her hand, telling her with his eyes to stand up. She gave him a questioning look but stood up anyway. When she did, he smiled. "And now... we dance." 

Rory's mouth dropped open and she took a step back. "Nuh uh. No way. No dancing." 

Tristan chuckled at the deer-in-the-headlights look that Rory was sporting. He laced his fingers with hers and pulled her to the dance floor which was half-filled. "Yes dancing." He tried not to laugh at her petulant expression. "What's the problem?" 

"Ican'tdance." The words tumbled out of Rory's mouth hurriedly. 

"What? I couldn't hear you." 

She looked up and threw him an evil look when she saw that he was grinning. "I. can't . dance ." Each word was enunciated slowly and Rory punctuated the statement by turning, intending to walk away but was halted when Tristan gently took hold of her hand. 

She give him a quizzical look as he took her arms and placed them around his neck before pulling her close and resting his hands on her waist. His proximity was unnerving her as the scent of his cologne assailed her senses. "And now... you just move," he whispered. 

Awkwardly, she shifted her feet, feeling utterly self-conscious. Seconds later, Tristan tipped her chin up until her eyes met. "Don't look at your feet," he told her. "Focus on me and don't think about your feet." 

Rory was well aware that focusing on him would be more disastrous because he had the ability to fluster her. She tore her eyes away from his, her gaze straying to her feet and suddenly, the world tilted as images filled her head. 

Alarmed, Tristan steadied her and drew her close to him. "Are you all right?" He felt her nod against his chest. 

"I just remembered something," she said, her eyes narrowed in concentration as she tried to piece together the images in her head. "I remember a school dance... I remember seeing you there... but we weren't there together. I remember feeling really self-conscious as I was dancing with this guy... this tall guy with dark hair." She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn't see Tristan's face pale slightly. 

"Maybe you should sit down for a while," he suggested, steering her towards an empty seat. 

"No," she shook her head, and Tristan felt worry seep into his bones. "No... can we just leave?" 

Tristan let out a breath at her question. Relief had never felt so sweet. "You want to go home?" 

She shook her head again. "No... I just don't want to be here." 

* * * * * 

Paris Gellar stifled a loud groan of frustration. '_Where the hell are my parents?_' she wondered, her eyes roaming the room, trying to locate them. Instead, she saw a familiar head of blonde hair. '_Okay... Tristan is here. You can just go over and ask if he's seen-_' Her thoughts came to a complete halt when she recognized who he was with. '_Why is Rory Gilmore with him?_' She watched, rooted to the spot as Tristan took her hand in his and Rory smiled gratefully at him before they both left the room. 

Paris knew that something was going on. 

* * * * *

(The park) 

Rory closed her eyes against the light breeze that blew against her. The park had been beautiful in the day when she had been there with Tristan, but at night, there was something enchanting about the place. She leaned back against the broad trunk of the oak tree and gazed into the starry night, sighing at the beauty of it all. 

Beside her, Tristan was enchanted not by the beauty of the park nor the night, but rather by the beauty of the girl next to him. She had taken out the pins that held her hair up and the mass of brown curls was tumbling over her shoulders. Her face was tipped up towards the sky and the glow of moonlight on her skin cast an ethereal glow. 

"You're staring at me again," Rory commented, her eyes still on the sky. Tristan's husky laugh in response made her wrap her arms tighter around herself. 

"Are you cold?" 

"Just a little," she said, not revealing that it was his presence that made her shiver. The chill was eliminated when Tristan put his jacket around her shoulders. Smiling in thanks, she snuggled deeper in the warmth left by his body. She moved closer to him, leaning her head against his shoulder. For a long while, they were just content to sit there side by side, underneath the stars. 

It was Rory who broke the spell that had been weaved over them. Sitting up, she took off the jacket, handed it back to Tristan. After slipping off her shoes, she took off running towards the playground that was only a hundred feet away from where they were sitting. Slightly out of breath, she sat down on one of the swings and using her legs, she pushed herself off the ground. Seconds later, she felt Tristan's hands on her back, pushing her higher and higher. 

The smile that came over him when he heard her squeals of joy was involuntary. After a few more pushes, he stopped and sat down on the empty swing next to her, his eyes following her every move, his ears catching every tinkle of her voice and enjoying the shivers that ran down his spine. When she finally came to a slow stop, she beamed at him and laughed. "That was great... I haven't done that in a while." 

A loud clap of thunder hindered Tristan's response. "Neither have I." 

"I love this place, it really is wonderful," Rory said softly. "There's something magical about it." 

"I know, that's why I always come here." 

Rory tried to breathe but the intensity of his cerulean eyes was overwhelming her, even in the dim light. With an effort, she broke the hold of his gaze on hers and shifted her eyes to the sky, her mind so fuddled that she didn't notice how the sky had darkened even more. 

"Rory," he began cautiously. She turned to him, her eyes wide and innocent and he drew on his reserve of strength to go on. "I want to tell you something." Some part of his brain was rooting him on, telling him that it was the right thing to do, that it would be better to confess to his lie now before any further damage was done. But... '_Don't do it! Don't tell her, it won't solve anything and it won't help at all._' 

Her eyes searched his and she realized that whatever it was that he wanted to tell her was important. But she also saw some hesitation, some worry and a lot of... an emotion that she couldn't identify. "What's wrong?" 

Tristan opened his mouth to speak, the words not coming to him. 

And the skies above them opened up. 

The rain came down in torrents, soaking them to the skin immediately. Tristan reached for Rory's hand, intending to find some shelter but instead, Rory pulled him close to her. Taken by surprise, her sharp pull sent his body colliding into hers and Tristan's arms reached around her to steady himself. Through the layers of their wet clothes, the warmth of their bodies fused. 

The next moment, her lips were on his. 

It had been too much for her to bear; feeling his body against hers, caught in the gaze of his stormy blue eyes and seeing his tongue dart out to lick the water that was dripping down his face. The one thought in her mind, the one urge was to close those few inches between them and so she followed that instinct. She had been waiting too long to feel his kiss. 

The electric touch of her soft, pliant lips on his had caught him unaware, but it was certainly not unwelcome. Her slender fingers raking through his wet hair, her body crushed against his... he couldn't think straight at all. All he was certain of was the feeling that ran through his body; an emotion so strong, so undeniable, so alien yet familiar at the same time. 

When her lips slowly parted beneath his, he didn't hesitated to sweep his tongue into the recesses of her sweet mouth and her moan that escaped sent his blood racing. She tilted her head further, trying to deepen the contact as her arms wrapped tighter around him. 

Rory knew without a doubt that whatever it was that she was feeling now, she had never felt before. She didn't think that she would ever forget the way she felt in his arms; so weak, so overwhelmed, so.... _loved_? She wasn't really sure, but all she knew that was she didn't want this feeling to end and she had the sneaking suspicion that it was Tristan, and only him, who could make her feel this way. 

Summoning his self-control, Tristan slowly lessened the intensity of their kiss. Placing one last soft kiss on her now swollen lips, he reluctantly pulled away although his arms remained firmly around her waist. The rain continued to fall around them, but they weren't aware of anything but each other. 

Trying to regulate his breathing, Tristan kept his eyes away from hers. But it didn't help; instead it drew attention to the water dripping off her exposed shoulders and the delicate curve of her neck. Groaning inwardly, he jerked his eyes upwards only to catch sight of her lips and the urge to kiss her returned, full force. His eyes finally met hers and he inhaled deeply when he recognized the look in her eyes. 

She was aware of his long eyelashes, made more prominent by the water that made them darker. She saw the way his white dress shirt clung to his hard and muscular body and the heat that infused her body from the touch of his hands on her waist. She swallowed thickly when her eyes met his and she shivered at the undeniable want that she saw in them. Oh god, she had to kiss him. 

So, she did. 

* * * * * 

A.N : Weeee! There ya go, hope you enjoyed it. Reviews are always welcome! :D   
One last thing... this is pretty much the calm before the storm. So... yeah. ::evil laughter:: 


	6. It's All Coming Back To Me Now

A.N : As always, thank you all for the reviews. I apologize for the long wait... I have no excuses; I was lazy and well, procrastination is my middle name. So finally, here's Part 6. Enjoy! 

*** * * * ***   
**Something To Remember**   
**by inmyeyes**   
**Part 6**

  
  


(Later that Sunday night. Gilmore residence. Hartford) 

"So... I'll see you tomorrow?" she asked, her smile hopeful. 

"I have school tomorrow," he reminded her, gently pushing her damp hair away from her face. "Not everyone's as lucky as you, getting to stay at home and do nothing." When she pouted in response, he leaned down and placed a quick kiss on her lips. 

"So, I'll see you after school then?" she corrected, twining her arms around his waist and pulling his body closer to hers. 

"I don't know," he grinned, intending to tease her. "You see, I have this.... thing that I have to do." 

Her lips quirked in a small smile. "A _thing_ that you have to do? Wow, it must be important." 

He nodded solemnly. "_Very_ important. Life altering even." 

She put on a look of disappointment. "When can I see you then? How long will this very important _thing_ you have to do take?" 

He absently played with the damp strands of her hair and shrugged. "I don't know. It might take a while. Why?" He smirked. "Are you gonna miss me?" 

She leaned closer still to him, rising on her toes so that her lips met his ear. "I'll miss you terribly." She grinned in satisfaction at the shudder that ran through his body. Her arms that had been around his waist moved up his back as she placed tiny kisses on his neck, mumbling as she did so. "Can't you just blow off that _thing_ you have to do? I'm sure it can wait another day..." 

He groaned and buried his head in her hair. "Okay... okay... I'll blow off this very _very_ important thing I should be doing tomorrow." He felt her giggle against his neck. "You can stop your torture now." 

She pulled away slightly, her eyes blazing in mock anger. "Torture, huh? What if I _don't_ wanna stop?" She leaned up, intending to catch his lips in hers. 

He met her half-way. 

* * * * * 

(Monday morning. Chilton) 

"Why were you there with Rory?" 

Tristan turned away from his task of taking out books and met the steely gaze of Paris Gellar. A momentary pang of panic seized him as he realized that Paris must have seen them together the previous night but he pushed it aside. Outwardly, he didn't betray any of his thoughts, choosing only to smile at her, hoping to unsettle her nerves. But Paris looked like a woman on a mission. 

"Oh, hi Paris. How are you doing? I'm fine, thanks." 

"What were you doing with Rory?" she demanded. 

He nonchalantly leaned against the locker next to his, affecting a pose of indifference. "I don't think it's any of your concern what I was doing with Rory, Paris." His tone was polite but firm. 

Paris stood unmoving for a moment, her eyes burning and Tristan noticed that her fists were clenched tightly at her sides. "Yes, you're right," she conceded, her smile tight. "It's not any of my concern." 

He watched her departing figure, heaving a silent sigh of relief that she hadn't pressed the issue. The last thing he needed was her catching onto his lie. 

* * * * * 

(Around noon. Gilmore residence. Hartford) 

Rory lay her head against the stout tree trunk, closing her eyes against the glimmer of sunlight that peaked through the leaves. On her lap was a worn copy of _Wuthering Heights_, now forgotten. She didn't understand why her grandmother had insisted that she stay at home another day; she was feeling much better now that the tiny headaches that sometimes hit her were gone. But Emily had said something about not making her worry and wanting Rory to stay at home so she had given in. Besides, her mother was coming back later that evening. Still, she was so bored that she wished that she was in school. At least, Tristan was there. 

_Tristan_. She smiled at the thought of him. Last night had been so perfect; she didn't think that she'd ever forget it. In her mind's eye, she conquered up an image of him; blonde hair tousled, wide smile in place, blue eyes shining and she thought that her heart would burst from emotion. Yet at the same time, there was a tiny voice at the back of her mind... and- 

"_Mary_," she muttered suddenly. She sat up, her eyes snapping open. She bit her lip in concentration, trying to vainly recall any snippet of information to go with the name but nothing came. Defeated, she closed her eyes and then, out of nowhere, a scene started playing out in her mind. 

A pair of warm hands covering her eyes startled her. "Guess who?" 

"Could it be my charming boyfriend who should be in school?" she wondered aloud. She pulled his hands away and turned to see him grinning cheekily at her. His hair looked as though he had run his fingers through it a million times. He had taken off his jacket, rolled up the sleeves of the blue shirt and undid the top two buttons. She grinned back. "Hi there. Couldn't stay away, huh?" 

"Of course I couldn't." He nudged her lightly and she moved forward so that he could scoot behind her. When he was finally settled, he looped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him. Sighing softly, she leaned her head against his shoulder. '_This feels nice,_' she thought. 

"What were you thinking about?" His husky whisper sent shivers down her spine. Turning her head slightly, she nearly gasped when she realized how close they were. Without a thought, she breached the few inches between them and kissed him. She wanted to kiss him, that much she could admit to herself. Last night, all she could think about was the kisses that they had shared and the wonderful feelings that he evoked in her. And upon seeing him just now, her first thought was how utterly kissable he looked. 

Tristan thought that after last night, nothing could be better. He was wrong. He came to the conclusion that Rory's kisses would never fail to astound him, drive him crazy and make him want her more. With a low groan, he pulled away from her and leaned his head on her shoulder as he tried to regain his breath. He let out a hoarse laugh. "You were thinking about that, too?" He raised his head in time to see a pink blush taint her cheeks. He grinned and kissed her lightly. "No, really... what were you thinking about?" 

Trying to will away the blush that had overtaken her, she settled back into his arms. "I just remembered some things that... _confused_ me." Since she had her back to him, she missed the grimace that settled on his handsome features. 

He took a deep breath, trying to keep his voice nonchalant. "What did you remember?" 

"I think I remembered the first time we met." Tristan's arms tightened around her but she was so caught up in her memories that she didn't notice. "It was at Chilton... and I remember you smirking at me." Tristan swallowed deeply and leaned his head back against the tree trunk as she went on. "And I remember you offering to lend me your notes." She turned and smiled. "That was sweet of you." 

He bit his lip and forced a smile but didn't trust himself to say anything. 

Rory turned back and moved closer to him, her fingers playing with the silver band on his left hand. "And... that's all I can remember. Was that really the first time we met?" 

He cleared his throat. "Yes, it was." 

"Did you fall madly in love with me then?" she asked, her tone teasing. 

Tristan inhaled deeply at the feeling of her fingers laced with his. "Something like that, yeah." 

She turned to face him again, her gaze sceptical. "Really?" 

His smile was genuine as he cupped her face with his hands and pulled her close until their foreheads touched. "Well, I definitely knew that you were different... and I knew I wanted to know you." _And I wanted you as a conquest. _Guilt stabbed at him. 

And when she smiled at him, her fingers lightly caressing his cheek, he felt himself drowning under the tide of guilt. 

"Wait... I remembered something else too." Rory's eyes narrowed in thought. "I remember the name 'Mary'." 

Tristan almost choked on his breath. "What?" 

Her confused eyes met his. "I don't know who she is... but I remember that name. It's... odd. Do you know anyone named Mary?" 

Oh, God... he didn't think that he could live with this guilt. "No, no... I don't know anyone named Mary." 

Her pensive mood lingered for a few more moments before she merely shrugged and then brightened up considerably. "Anyway, I forgot to ask. What exactly are you doing here, Mr. DuGrey? Shouldn't you be in school?" 

Relieved at the change in subject, he smiled widely. "Well, I _was_ in school but I couldn't stand it because I missed my girlfriend so much. So I decided to come see her and keep her company." 

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "My, my, what a glib tongue you have there, Mr. DuGrey." 

"All the better to kiss you with, Miss Gilmore," he leered, earning him a smack on his shoulder. A second later and he was pouting. "But it's _true_. I know your mom's coming back today and she's gonna take you away from me." 

She patted his cheek condescendingly. "Awww, you poor baby. You're gonna be allll alone." 

He ignored her and went on. "So, I wanted to spend as much time as I could with you before you go back to Stars Hollow." 

"You make it sound as though you're never gonna see me or speak to me ever again," she teased. 

Tristan inwardly winced at the truth of the words. He knew that she wouldn't ever acknowledge his existence once she remembered everything. "Maybe you'll meet someone there and fall madly in love with him," he joked. "And you'll never want to see me again." 

She threw her arms around him, laughing gaily. "I don't think so. You won't be able to get rid of me so easily. Why would I want anyone else when I have you?" 

With his arms holding her close to him, he closed his eyes and committed to memory the feeling of having her in his arms. 

* * * * * 

(Late afternoon. Luke's. Stars Hollow) 

"What do you want?" was Luke's gruff demand when he noticed Dean leaning against the counter, tapping his fingers insistently against the linoleum. 

"Have you seen Rory today?" he asked urgently. Sighing deeply, he ran a hand through his hair. "I was supposed to meet her at the bus stop after school today but she never showed up. Do you know where she is?" 

Luke didn't seem bothered by Dean's frazzled tone. Calmly, he wiped the counter. "I haven't seen her today. She's probably still at Hartford." 

Dean was adamant. "I've called a few times this weekend, but she was never there when I called. And she hasn't called me back. I think that-" 

"Look," Luke cut in. "I'm sure Rory is fine. If she wasn't, Lorelai would be back already with her in tow. I'm sure that if you go by their house tonight, they'll be there." Without staying to hear Dean's response, Luke walked away. 

* * * * * 

(That evening. On the way from Hartford to Stars Hollow) 

Rory smiled as she watched her mother gesticulate wildly as she tried to make a point about how horrible the convention had been. It was amazing how much better she felt now that Lorelai was back. Being with her brought a sense of familiarity and belonging and love and Rory couldn't help but be comforted by that. Familiar images of her childhood and the fun times they had had together were slowly seeping into her mind and coming back to her. 

Lorelai cut off her long sentence, taking a deep breath. "Are you sure you're feeling okay, Rory?" she asked for the millionth time that night. 

She smiled reassuringly. "I'm fine." 

"Hey, after spending a long weekend that the Gilmore House of Gloom back there, any worry on my part is justified. Well, I'm sure you'll feel _much_ better after having some of Luke's coffee," she said knowingly. "The coffee as the convention was _awful_. It tasted like tar." Lorelai shuddered for effect. 

"You need to taste coffee at _The Garage_," Rory suggested. "It's good." 

Lorelai shot her daughter a questioning look. "_The Garage_?" 

Rory nodded. "Yeah, it's this cafe that Tristan brought me to." She smiled at the memory of that night and the feeling of security that she had gotten from being in his embrace. "Great coffee, good music and really comfortable couches. It's a good place." 

Lorelai took note of Rory's dreamy smile but chose not to say anything... _yet_. 

At the thought of Tristan, her mind replayed the moment that afternoon which she had spent together with him. After eating some lunch, they had gone to the park and just sat and talked. They debated about the best movies, their favourite books, music and just about everything and anything imaginable. Rory didn't think that she had ever smiled or laughed so hard in one afternoon than she did just now. 

After a lengthy argument over the idiocy of carving one's name on the benches, Tristan had pulled out a penknife and proceeded to carve out "Tristan + Rory forever" at the back of the bench they were sitting on. Rory had protested loudly but he was not deterred. She finally shut up after Tristan had gathered her in his arms and soundly kissed her. Then he had said something that baffled her: "Rory, whatever happens, know that this moment is true. Everything about it is true." She wanted to ask him what he was alluding to but the plea in his eyes gave her pause. So she had merely nodded and hugged him close to her. 

"What are you thinking about?" Lorelai asked softly. 

She answered without hesitation. "Tristan." 

As they entered Stars Hollow, Lorelai asked, "Coffee stop at Luke's? Or straight home?" 

Rory sighed. "I'm still feeling a little out of sorts so can we just go straight home?" 

"Of course," Lorelai said. 

At that moment, they drove by Doose's market and a whole barrage of images hit Rory at once. She shut her eyes, trying to come to terms with it all. 

_Doose's market. Cornstarch. Kiss. **Dean**.___

Alarmed, Rory's eyes opened wide. 

_Dean_. 

"Rory? What's wrong, honey?" came Lorelai's concerned question. 

Rory leaned her head against the dashboard, breathing heavily as the entire weight of the memories of her young life sailed through her mind. But the one thing she had pin-pointed was Dean. Her _boyfriend_, Dean. 

All of a sudden, another face popped in her head. '_Oh God, no... please no... please, don't let it be a lie... no..." _The memories of the last four days chose that exact moment to fill her mind. She shook her head vehemently against the onslaught, not wanting to believe it. Willing herself not to cry, she bit the inside of her cheek, hard. 

It was Lorelai's gentle touch that did her in. "Rory, sweetie..." She pulled Rory to her, embracing her tightly, not knowing what was wrong but knowing that her daughter was hurting. "It'll be okay, sweetie. It'll be fine." 

Rory nuzzled her face against her mother's neck and finally allowed the tears to fall. 

* * * * * 

A.N : So yes... it all falls apart. The drama continues in the next chapter, which I promise will not take too long.   
Any opinions on this chapter would be nice. Hit the review button down there. Thanks :) 


	7. Kissing A Fool

A.N : Woo! Thanks for all the reviews. :D Just so y'all know, this **is** a Trory... I don't know what might have led you guys to think otherwise, but it will eventually be Trory. So don't worry about that; I could never turn to the dark side. Hee! Also, since I'm not into gratuitous violence, no killing will be involved ::LoL:: I'll try my best not to be excessively evil and take the very long scenic route... but whatever it is, make the phrase "It'll eventually be a Trory" your mantra while reading this. :D I don't like/am not good at writing Dean so I apologize for his drab characterization. 

One last thing: I've forgotten to mention that this story takes place after "Concert Interruptus". The dialogue in this chapter that are in _italics_ is from the previous parts of the story and those in **bold** are actually from what happened in the episodes up to and including "Concert Interruptus". I'm sure most of guys would recognize that anyways but I'm making that distinction so that you won't be confused. Thank you to gilmore-girls.net for the transcripts. 

*** * * * *   
Something To Remember   
by inmyeyes   
Part 7**

(That Monday night. Gilmore house. Stars Hollow) 

She knew it was pathetic, but she didn't care. After drying her tears, she had refused to tell her mother anything. Instead, she had run straight to her room and threw herself on the bed, trying to keep the tears at bay. After a few laboured breaths, she slowly got off her sprawled position and locked her bedroom door, something that she had never felt the need to do before. Not bothering to turn on any lights, she crawled back onto her bed, curling up onto a fetal position. 

_"There's something going on between us." _

"I guess you could say so." 

"You're special." 

"I'd say the same about you." 

"This thing between us... it's more than just a something, isn't it? 

"Yes, we're dating." 

She lay unmoving, her eyes staring into the darkness but his words haunted her in her mind, loud and mocking. Swallowing back tears, she shut her eyes, but it only served to make his image in her mind brighter. She saw him smiling at her, laughing, his eyes bright and staring right into her. 

**"Well I actually thought you'd like to go with me." **

"You did not." 

"I did too." 

"You did not because you are not stupid." 

"Why, thank you." 

"Slimy and weasely, yes, but stupid, no. You'd have to be stupid to think that, given our history, I would ever, barring a piano or a safe falling on my head, want to go anywhere with you, ever." 

And then a moment later, a memory from Chilton would assail her, taunting her and reminding her how... She pressed her eyes closer still, but the voice in her head told her how much of a jerk he had been to her. An arrogant, over-bearing, relentless asshole who made her life at Chilton absolutely horrible. 

_"You're my girlfriend, aren't you?" _

"Well, they're gonna have a long wait ahead of them... I plan on being with you for a long time." 

**"See, I think you like me, you just don't know how to say it." **

"Oh boy." 

"What are you doing Friday night?" 

"I'm busy." 

"What, you gotta be back at the convent by 5?" 

"Please leave me alone." 

It was so difficult to reconcile the sweet, considerate, loving boyfriend he had been to her with the amazingly self-assured, cocky, suave player image that he portrayed. It sounded like there were two loud, argumentative voices in her head, each pleading their case for him... but they both drowned each other out and all she felt was a hard, throbbing pain in her temples. 

**"So where's my birthday kiss?" **

"It's my birthday." 

"So I'll give you a birthday kiss." 

"What is wrong with you?" 

"Ok, I gotta tell you something. I'm madly in love with you." 

"Well, good luck with that." 

"I can't eat, I can't sleep... I wake up in the middle of the night calling your name. Rory, Rory!" 

Wiping her hand hastily across her cheek, she got rid of the tears that had escaped from her closed eyes. She didn't want to cry, she really didn't but it wasn't as though she could help it. The tears just came and came, like a never-ending flood, dampening her pale cheeks. But she didn't make a sound, didn't make any move at all; here was no visible movement from her but her mind was a jumbled mess of memories and images and pieces of dialogue that should have not made any sense but did. 

_"I love being with you, it just makes everything else in my life seem better." _

"You don't have to be alone, Tristan. Not when you have me." 

She was angry. No, she was furious. How could he have led her on like that? How could the lies just flow out of his mouth? How could he play with her emotions and take advantage of her condition just so he could get what he wanted? She felt so outraged that she could strangle him. No, death by strangulation would be too good for him, she decided. She'd kill him... slowly and torturously., drawing out his last breath. 

"I think I remembered the first time we met. It was at Chilton... and I remember you smirking at me. And I remember you offering to lend me your notes. That was sweet of you." 

**"I could loan you my notes, if that would help." **

"Really? That's be great." 

"Yeah? How great?" 

"I don't know. Mr. Remmy said that getting someone's notes would be..." 

"I could even help you study. If you want." 

"Uh, I kind of view studying as a solitary activity. But thanks." 

Yet her anger was laced with confusion; she _wanted_ to believe that he cared for her. She _wanted_ to believe that the way he looked at her as though she was the beautiful girl in the world was true and not some contrived act. She _wanted_ to believe that every kiss they shared was so good, so earth-shatteringly _amazing_ because he truly felt something for her, not a result of years of experience and practice. 

_"Did you fall madly in love with me then?" _

"Something like that, yeah." 

"Really?" 

"Well, I definitely knew that you were different... and I knew I wanted to know you." 

**"This is stupid. you don't even like me! You just have this weird need to prove that I'll go out with you. That's not liking someone." **

"Why are you fighting this? You're gonna give in eventually." 

But she absolutely refused to acknowledge the disappointment that filled a small part of her heart. The disappointment that he was all she had initially thought he was when she first met him; that at his core, he was a manipulative, selfish bastard who didn't care about anyone but himself. 

She pushed aside the hurt that filled her at the realization that she was nothing but a game; one that he had easily won in her fragile situation. He didn't care for her, and he certainly didn't love her. And it hurt, more than she wanted it to. More than it should have. 

_"I just want you near me."_

"Rory?" The sound of her mother's voice from behind the other side of her bedroom door startled her. "Are you okay in there?" 

She clearly her throat gently and prayed that Lorelai wouldn't be able to tell that she had been crying. "I just want to go to sleep." 

There was a short pause and Rory hoped that she would be left alone. 

"Okay then." 

As the sound of footsteps faded, Rory brushed away the lingering tears. 

_"No, no... I don't know anyone named Mary."_

**"Hey, Mary." **

"Me?" 

"Yeah, you." 

"My name is Rory." 

He _lied_ to her. She could phrase it any way she wanted to, try to deny his actions and his words... but at the bottom of it all, he had lied to her. 

_"You make it sound as though you're never gonna see me or speak to me ever again." _

"Maybe you'll meet someone there and fall madly in love with him. And you'll never want to see me again." 

"I don't think so. You won't be able to get rid of me so easily. Why would I want anyone else when I have you?" 

She bit her lip, hard, not noticing the taste of blood on her tongue that mingled with her tears. She had been so naive, so trusting and so ready to care for him... and he had played her like a Hawaiian on a ukulele. She had fallen for his game; hook, line and sinker. 

_"Rory, whatever happens, know that this moment is true. Everything about it is true." _

No, it was worse than that; along the way, somehow, she had fallen for him. 

She had fallen for the one who manipulated her, lied to her and used her for his own end. She had fallen for a lie. 

Curling her arms around herself, she let the tears freely fall. 

* * * * *

(Outside) 

She didn't believe for one second that Rory was fine. She recognized the way her voice had sounded stuffy and hoarse, as though she had been crying. Rory obviously didn't want to confide in her, as she had barred Lorelai from entering by locking the door. The last time Rory had locked the door, it was.... well, it had never happened. Lorelai was forced to stop chewing on her nails and worrying about Rory when the doorbell chimed. Heaving a loud sigh of frustration, she strode to the door, praying that it wasn't one of the good-natured but nosy neighbours. The reality was worse. 

"Dean, what are you doing here?" 

"Is Rory okay? I was waiting for her at the bus stop just now, but she never showed. Is she-" 

Lorelai held up her hand, cutting him off in mid sentence. She could clearly tell that he was concerned but she knew that the last thing Rory needed was him fussing over her like she knew he would. "Woah there, boy. Back that truck up a little. She's all right; she just decided to stay at her grandparents' one more day." 

"Are you sure? Can I-" 

"She's tired and she's already gone to bed." Lorelai felt a pang of sympathy at Dean's crestfallen face but didn't waver in her decision; something was obviously wrong with her daughter and her instinct told her that it had something to do with Tristan. And until this mess could be sorted out, Dean didn't need to be involved in it; he'd only bring with him a whole lot of pressure and stress on Rory. 

"Okay then," he conceded, not hiding the disappointment in his voice. "Tell her that I'll see her tomorrow." 

She smiled, kindly and nodded. 

* * * * *

(Next morning) 

The familiar whirring sound of the coffee maker woke Lorelai from her semi-awake state. Blinking rapidly to adjust to the bright sunlight filtering in through the windows, she lifted her head from the kitchen table to see Rory. 

"Hey, you got it to work!" she exclaimed. "I was trying but I couldn't." 

Rory poured out two cups and handed one to her mother, chugging her own coffee down. "Yeah. You forgot to switch on the main plug, Mom." 

"Damnit, I always forget that," Lorelai said, shaking her head. Over the rim of her coffee cup, she studied the girl before her. Surprisingly enough, she didn't look as though she had been crying all night long. There were no dark circles under her eyes, her eyes weren't that red and puffy, her hair was neatly combed and... she was actually smiling. Okay, so maybe the smile was a little false and too cheery but at least she was trying. 

"Are you sure you're feeling all right?" Lorelai asked, striving to keep the suspicion and concern out of her voice. "You don't have to go back to school just yet." 

"Mom, I missed Friday and Monday. I have a 5 feet pile of work to do now. I can't miss another day," she reasoned. "Plus, I've already gotten my memory back. So I'll be fine." 

Lorelai nearly choked on her coffee. "What?!? You got your memory back? When was this?" 

"Yesterday," she answered nonchalantly. 

Lorelai's worry increased but she tried not to show it. "Yesterday, huh?" She put the pieces of the puzzle together and realized that Rory had probably been crying because of that. 

Rory shifted uncomfortably under her mother's scrutiny. "I really should get going." 

"Wait," Lorelai got up quickly, "Give me 10 minutes, I'll drive you." 

Rory was already half-way through the living room. "No, you don' hav-" 

"_Rory_, I'll drive you." Her firm tone meant business. 

Rory sighed and sat down on the couch. She knew better than to argue. "Okay. 10 minutes." 

* * * * * 

(Before first period. Chilton) 

Rory clenched her jaw, her eyes roving the halls for the sight of his fair head. But he was nowhere to be seen. Suppressing a sigh, she made her way to her locker and prayed that she wouldn't bump into Paris. With the mood she was in, she knew that if Paris baited her, she would blow up. Just as she was taking out her Calculus book, she felt a tingle run up her spine and instinctively knew that Tristan was nearby. She hated that he had that effect on her; she hated that she loved it. 

Pretending to not have noticed him, she continued putting away the stuff she didn't need and taking the ones she needed, seeming engrossed in her task. The tremor that assaulted her at the familiar feel of his arm sliding around her waist and the touch of his soft lips on her neck was real. Berating her heart for letting him make her feel that way, she breathed in and called forth every ounce of acting talent she had. This had to be an Oscar-worthy performance. 

Turning her body to face him, she wanted to smile widely at the look of happinessin his eyes which shone like a brilliant blue sky. That look couldn't be pretense, she told herself but her rational side reminded her of what he had done. Hiding the feelings that were bubbling inside of her, she ran her hand up his arm and looped her arm over his neck and smiled coyly. "Hey you, I missed you." _You lying asshole._

His hand came up and he brushed his knuckles over her cheek in a carress, his eyes soft. "I missed you too, Rory." 

_Like hell you did. _Rory smiled, her fingers playing with his soft hair. She caught his gaze then realized that he wanted to kiss her, that he was going to kiss her. 

She wanted him to. That was the worst thing; that even after all she knew, she still wanted to feel his lips on hers one last time, to pretend that maybe they were in love and that he really was who he said he was. One last kiss before she had to deal with reality. 

When his lips finally touched hers, her response was swift. A hand clutching his arm, the other in his hair, her lips never losing contact with his. When he buried his hand in her hair and pulled her closer still, pressing her against the locker next to hers, she just kissed him harder. 

But for some reason, his lips remained gentle on hers, not allowing the kiss to escalate too much but rather, he was taking his time as though he was just learning the taste and feel of her. It was slow and deep and Rory wanted to die from the pleasure his kisses brought. 

Breathing heavily, it was Rory who broke the kiss. But she didn't pull away completely from him. Instead, she let her fingers trace the chiselled lines of his jaw and his soft, swollen lips. She drew her gaze up and met his cloudy blue eyes straight on. 

"You lied to me." 

Her voice was soft, but she knew when the impact of her words hit; he knew exactly what she was talking about when she felt him stiffen against her. Prying his arms away from her waist, she turned to close her locker and then grabbed her bag. 

She shouldn't have kissed him that last time; it made her resolve weak. She almost wanted to pretend that everything was just fine for a little while more. To enjoy his kisses and his words and the way his eyes lit up. His laughs, his boyish smile and the way he hugged her like he didn't want to let go. But she couldn't. 

She turned back to him, her eyes blazing into his. For a second, neither said or did anything. 

She couldn't just stand there, looking at him and seeing the guilty expression in his eyes mingled with a touch of longing. She couldn't bear the sight of him. She wanted to scream, yell at him at the top of her lungs, hit him, and make him feel a measure of the pain that she carried with her but she didn't have the energy to do it. 

So, she ran out, leaving Tristan standing there, watching her departing figure. 

* * * * *


	8. Take A Bow (The Show Is Over)

A.N: The reviews were awesome, thank you. I know that I left the last chapter in a bad place so there is Part 8. It's up so soon since I was on a roll and just started writing this. It's mostly filler-ish but I hope you enjoy it anyways. :D 

* * * * *   
Something To Remember   
by inmyeyes   
Part 8 

(After school. Chilton parking lot) 

The day had gone by so slowly; every moment drawn out into its last millisecond, prolonging the burning sensation in his stomach and the mental beating that he had given himself. He had operated on auto-pilot, not really conscious of what was around him but only seeing a pair of wide doe eyes, liquid blue with hurt. 

_"You lied to me." _

When he had seen her in that hallway, he had pushed aside any thoughts he had and ignored the loud, insistent ring of "Abort! Abort! Danger!" that created a cacophony of sound in his head. Instead, he had given into the urge to touch her; his arm wrapping around her slender waist and his lips immediately finding a spot on her neck, tasting her sweet skin. 

The warnings in his head that grown louder, more annoying; they were telling him that she could have very well regained her memory or at least, found out the truth from Lorelai or Dean. But, his heart reasoned, if she knew the truth she wouldn't still in his arms and making his heart race with that beautiful smile. She wouldn't be nestling closer to him, wouldn't be telling him that she missed him. 

And she definitely wouldn't be kissing him. 

The ominous voices in his head were drowned by the wave of feeling that ran over him at the touch of her soft lips on his. Her lips were hard and insistent against him, forcing him to give as much as she did. Behind the cloud of pleasure that he was trapped in, he acknowledged the almost desperate quality to the kiss as though she was trying to assure herself that he was there and that he was with her, showing her how he felt. Feeling slightly alarmed at how the kiss could easily get out of control, he gentled the pressure of his lips, his hand cradling her head to maintain the deep contact. When she pulled away, her face flushed and her lips red, he curbed the urge to pull her to him again. 

Then came the admission that shocked him out of his wits. "You lied to me." 

The words were spoken in such a soft, unaccusatory tone and said most emotionlessly. It was a statement that was uttered as though she was merely stating the obvious; a statement like "The sky is blue." 

There was no question about what she was referring to; he wouldn't disrespect her and act as though he didn't understand what she was talking about. A whole lot of possibilities flew through his mind; words he could say, explanations he could give, things he could do but nothing seemed right. 

_"You lied to me."_

It felt to him as though he could do nothing to right the wrong. 

When she turned back to him, he saw the first hint of emotion in her demanour, revealed by her eyes that told him everything. 

Oh, that was certainly anger, that much he had expected. But what crushed him even more was the hurt, the betrayal in her eyes. He knew that that look would haunt him. And when she had run out, without so much as a yell or a cry of outrage or tears or throwing her books at him... without a single outward display of emotion, he was felled with the burden of pain and guilt that overtook him. 

_"You lied to me."_

He had wanted to leave, to lick his wounds and to rue over what an asshole he had been but as the first bell rang, he decided against it. He knew very well that given the opportunity he would gladly wallow in self-loathing and self-pity. He knew that he wouldn't be able to stop thinking about her and wishing that he had done things differently. He would beat himself up for not confessing to her the truth when he had the chance. He would replay every single moment, every single kiss and touch and drive himself absolutely insane. 

School was a better alternative. School would keep him occupied and distract him from the mess that he had created and now had to clean up. And now that the school day was over, the flood of repressed thoughts and feelings came rushing back. 

He leaned his head on the steering wheel, letting out a huge sigh. He shut his eyes and wished that today had never come. 

A rap on the car window jolted him from his thoughts and he looked up to see Paris looking expectantly at him. Trying to smile, he rolled the window down. Her tone was unusually gentle. "You can tell me the truth." 

"What truth?" 

"What's wrong? That's what I want to know," she said, her eyes boring into his. 

"Everything," was his curt answer. Looking away from her, he raked a hand through his already messy hair and reached to turn his key, the engine rumbling to life. "Look Paris, I have to go. I'll see you tomorrow." When she didn't say anything, he shifted his eyes to her and was disgruntled by her assessing gaze. 

"We've known each other for a long time, haven't we?" 

His smile was wry. "Yes, we have." 

She returned the smile, hers was encouraging. "Well, in case you didn't already know, if you need a friend, I'm here." 

He nodded, his eyes grateful. "I know. But there are some things you can't help me with." With those words, he sped out of the parking lot. 

Take a bow. The curtain had fallen. The play was over. 

* * * * * 

(Afternoon. Gilmore house. Stars Hollow) 

"Rory?" Lorelai called out, seeing the hunched form of her daughter at the kitchen table. 

"Hi Mom," she replied. She turned and Lorelai saw that her cheeks were stained with tears. 

"Oh honey, are you feeling all right?" She knelt down in front of Rory, her hands cupping Rory's cheeks and rubbing away the tears that had began to fall. 

"I just couldn't be at school. So I left," she said, ignoring the question. 

"Are you feeling all right?" Lorelai repeated, her voice firm. "Sweetie, something's wrong. I know that, but I can't help you fix it if you don't tell me what it is." 

"You can't fix this, Mom. You can't. It's broken into a million tiny pieces." She paused, swallowing the lump in her throat. "You _can't_ fix it." 

Lorelai searched the blue eyes before, trying to make sense of what she was saying but it was incomprehensible to her. "Fix what? What is it? What's broken?" 

Rory let out a choked sob and threw her arms around her mother. "My heart. It's _broken_," she mumbled. Lorelai couldn't do anything but let her daughter find solace in her arms. 

* * * * * 

"You feeling better now?" Lorelai asked. After her tears had finally been spent, they had moved to the couch, each holding a large cup of coffee in her hands. 

Rory cracked a small smile as she inhaled the comforting aroma of her ambrosia. "I still feel like crap." 

Lorelai nodded sagely. "Well, feeling like crap is a step up from feeling like shit run over twice by a truck. I say we're making progress." 

"A little progress," Rory conceded. 

"Well," Lorelai argued, "a little is better than no progress at all." There was a short silence as she tried to find a way to ask what she wanted to know. Finally she decided on the direct approach. "What happened?" 

"What happened what?" 

Lorelai rolled her eyes. Even at a time like this, Rory was still being impossible. "What happened while I was away?" Rory opened her mouth to speak but was cut off. "No, let me rephrase that. What happened with Tristan while I was away?" 

"Can we not talk about him?" Rory pleaded. 

"Well, you see, one nifty thing about being a mother is that you can demand information from your offspring. So, do you want me to get nasty and start a sentence with 'I command you'? You know that's not my style." At Rory's stubborn look, Lorelai went on. "Fine. You leave me no choice but to bring out the Hitler in me. Rory Gilmore, fruit of my loins, I _command_ you-" 

Rory put her hand up in surrender and shuddered. "_Fruit of my loins_? Eww. Bad phrase. Okay, I'll tell you." 

Lorelai clapped excitedly. "Woo! Story time! I've always loved hearing stories." 

"This is more like a tragedy." 

"Like Romeo & Juliet?" 

"Well," Rory said, "a little. But without the gratuitous deaths. Then again, after you hear this, there may be killing involved." 

* * * * * 

"Oh, that conniving, lying, manipulative, bast-" 

"I know," Rory smiled sadly. "And you know the worst part? Those four days with him... I could never forget them." 

Lorelai reached over and enfolded Rory in her arms. "I'm sorry, sweetie." 

Rory hugged her harder. "It's not your fault. I was stupid to care for him." 

"He doesn't deserve you," Lorelai stated. "He's pond scum. No, he's the bacteria that feeds on the algae that grows on the pond scum. That's what he is." 

Rory pulled away, smiling thankfully at her mother. "Thanks for listening. I'll go get us some more coffee." 

As Lorelai sat back, a thought suddenly occurred to her. Sighing in frustration, she slapped her forehead with her palm. Things were going to get more complicated than they already were. She was almost considering not bringing it up to Rory, but she knew she had to. 

"Rory? I hate to say this, but I have to." 

Rory's brow creased in confusion. "What is it?" 

"What are you gonna do about Dean?" 

At the mention of that name, Rory groaned, picked up a cushion and started pummeling her head with it. 

"Hey hey," Lorelai exclaimed, taking the cushion away. "Don't do anything to your head. We don't want you regressing and losing your memory again. Besides, we have to go to the doctors' and check if everything's okay in there." 

Rory groaned again and leaned her head against the back of the couch. "Oh God, what am I gonna do about Dean?" 

* * * * * 

(That evening) 

The mattress moved as Lorelai flopped down next to Rory's lying form. 

"You can't keep avoiding him forever, you know," Lorelai pointed out. 

"I can try." 

"He looked really hurt, Ror." 

Rory turned to face her mother. "What did you tell him?" 

"I told him that you haven't been feeling well the past few days and that you've been mostly in bed." 

"Thanks," Rory said, grateful. 

Lorelai smiled, brushing back Rory's hair. "I can't keep on doing that forever." 

"I'll do the laundry for the next month if you do," Rory offered. 

"No fair, that's a low blow. You know I can't resist that, " Lorelai pouted. A moment later, the mischievous look was replaced a more serious one. "Rory, you can't keep on avoiding them both." 

Rory's eyes were stubborn as they met her mother's. "I can." 

"It'll be so tiring." 

Rory was adamant. "I can do it." 

"I can understand you avoiding _Tristan_-" 

Rory winced at the mention of his name. "Don't say his name." 

"But you shouldn't be avoiding Dean. He didn't do anything wrong. He should know the truth. He's your boyfriend for goodness' sake." 

Rory sat up and adopted an earnest expression. "Dean, I have to tell you something. I think I'm in love with Tristan." She erased the look of earnestness and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I'm sure that will go over real well with him." 

At the words 'in love', Lorelai bolted up, her eyes as wide as saucers. "In love? _In love_? You're in love with that- that _scum_?" Out of nowhere, words from a conversation that she had with Rory floated through her mind. 

_"I like him, Mom. I like him a lot. He's sweet and smart and he makes me laugh. And he has the best smile, Mom. When he smiles at me, I feel like I've been given some special gift."_

"Something like that," Rory mumbled. "Bummer, huh?" 

"Bummer," Lorelai agreed. 

* * * * *

(That night. The park) 

He had come there, seeking comfort in a place that had always managed to put him at peace. But now, all that the park offered him was memories. Idly, his fingers traced the carved words on the bench. '_Tristan + Rory forever_', it said. 

Well, forever had come and gone. Forever had lasted four wonderful days, easily the most amazing time of his young life. It was four days that he had stolen from Fate, ninety-six hours that he didn't deserve, five thousand sixty minutes that were filled with nothing but her. 

He sat forward, arms propped up on his knees and his hands cradling his chin. A soft breeze ruffled his hair, soothing him from the inner turmoil that he had battled all day. He had been thinking about ways to apologize, words to utter in hope that she would forgive him, things that he could do to redeem himself. He had a million ideas, some of which he had employed with previous girlfriends, but they seemed too trite and too undeserving of her after all he had done to her. 

Being here, in a place where they had built memories, was doing him more harm than good. In the almost silent night, he could easily imagine the clear dulcet tones of her laughter and see her bright smile and her sapphire blue eyes. 

The first thing he did when he entered his car was to switch on the heat, hoping to take away the chill that had invaded him. The heat did little to alleviate it though; he smiled ruefully when he realized that the cold he was feeling came from the inside. In order to break the stifling silence, he turned on his CD player before reversing out of his parking slot.   


_Can't remember why we fell apart  
With something that was so meant to be  
Forever was the promise in our hearts  
Now, more and more I wonder where you are...  
_

Do I ever cross your mind, anytime?  
Do you ever wake up, reaching out for me?  
Do I ever cross your mind, anytime?  
I miss you...   


He wanted to laugh at the coincidence, but it hurt too much. In the back of his mind, he wondered if thinking of her would always hurt. 

He had a feeling it would. 

* * * * * 

Song credit : "Anytime" by Brian McKnight 

* * * * * 

A.N : There you go. Hope you enjoyed it. The next chapter would probably be out sometime next week. :D Reviews and e-mails are always welcome... feel free to call me a Goddess for updating so soon. ::LoL:: Hahaha... such a comedian I am. ::grin:: 


	9. If You Knew What I Knew

A.N : Heehee... I can't believe some of guys took me seriously on the "Goddess" thing. :D Thank you anyways. It's way after Friday, February 8th 4:30:21pm (I'm almost a week late) but here's the next chapter. Although it's Valentine's Day, admittedly, there is nothing remotely Valentine-ish about this chapter. The only kinda romantic thing would be the poetry but even then... it's more angst than romance. Anyway... Happy Valentine's Day, read on and enjoy. :) 

* * * * *   
Something To Remember   
by inmyeyes   
Part 9 

(Late that night. Gilmore House. Stars Hollow) 

'_You're not in love with him._' was the statement that had been running through her mind. Her rational side whole-heartedly believed in it. Four days, however wonderful and memorable they may have been, didn't mean anything in the grand scheme of things. It didn't erase all the other things that he had put her through; the annoying persistence, the arrogant way he pursued her, the trouble he had cause at the dance, his overbearing attitude and every other thing he did at Chilton. Four days didn't have the power to turn back time. 

Unfortunately, four days had the power to let her see a completely different side of Tristan DuGrey. And it made her wonder if her perception of him was off-base. 

Maybe it was too rash of her to think that she was in love with him; in a way, she reasoned, she thought she was in love with the guy whom she spent those four days with. A guy who may have been specially created; a role, a character that Tristan adopted. 

Maybe 'in love' was too strong of a phrase to describe what she felt for him. He made her smile, made her laugh, argued with her, shared his thoughts with her. He made her knees buckle whenever he touched her, made her drown in the blue pools that were his eyes and when he kissed her, it seemed like the rest of the world didn't exist. 

'_Okay then,_' she conceded, '_I'm attracted to him. I like him. Hell, I may even care for him. I don't love him._' 

Satisfied with her conclusion, she finally let her weary mind rest. 

She paid no heed to the soft voice in her head, completing her last thought. '_Not yet._' 

* * * * * 

(Wednesday morning. Chilton) 

"Are you sure you're feeling like up for it?" Lorelai asked for confirmation as the Gilmore girls sat in the parked jeep in front of the imposing building that was Chilton. 

"I can't miss another day." 

"That's what you said _yesterday_," Lorelai pointed out, earning her a dirty look. 

"That was _yesterday_," Rory gritted out, her tone insistent. 

"Of course yesterday was yesterday. Yesterday can't be today." 

"Mom." 

Lorelai sighed. "I'm just worried." 

"Don't be; I'll be perfectly fine." 

"Okay, I'll see you after school," Lorelai reminded her. "We have that appointment at the hospital today." 

Rory groaned, not looking forward to it. "Yeah, I'll see you then." 

Minutes later, she was at her locker, exchanging her books as fast as she possibly could. All she wanted to do was to get to class, get a seat, bury herself in a book and pretend that Tristan DuGrey didn't exist. Her luck didn't hold out. 

"Where have you been the last few days?" 

Rory almost groaned aloud at the sound of Paris' voice coming from beside her. Not taking her eyes off her books, she answered, "I've been..." she paused, " sick." 

She could feel Paris' assessing gaze. "You don't look sick." 

Closing her locker, she faced Paris. "That's because it was a mental illness," she retorted sarcastically, rolling her eyes before walking towards her first class. 

"Well," Paris began, her voice casual. Rory was immediately suspicious. "It seems like a certain person named Tristan has also contracted this mental illness." 

Rory tried not to blanch at the mention of his name. "I always knew something was wrong with him," Rory said, trying to sound nonchalant. 

"I was just thinking that maybe your illnesses are related. You know... contagious mental illnesses." 

"There is no such thing as a contagious mental illness, Paris." 

Their eyes met and Rory had the disconcerting feeling that Paris knew something. Before she could say anything, Paris gave a shrug and walked away. 

* * * * * 

(After school. Chilton) 

She saw him a total of seventeen times that day, not that she was counting of course. Besides, technically, she didn't _see_ him because she always averted her eyes whenever he was anywhere near. But the tell-tale prickly feeling she got was enough to warn her whenever he was near. The same prickly feeling that urged her to turn around and just look at him. 

Rory was nothing else if not strong-willed; she steeled herself against the urge to just drink in the sight of him. She only gave in once, letting her eyes quickly run over him as she entered the English Literature class they shared. She spent the next 15 minutes silently berating herself for her weakness. 

Once the period was over, she took her time gathering her stuff together, waiting for him to leave before she did. She didn't have to dawdle long; he shot out of his chair the moment the bell rang. But her loitering did have an advantage; the teacher, a stout, matronly woman named Mrs. Kendle, informed her of the work she had missed and told her about the assignment for the next day that she had given out last Friday. 

The assignment was to choose a poem and present it to the class. She also had to hand in a two-page essay on the poem on her interpretation of it and on the various aspects of the poem; its style, the word use etc. The essay was also due the next day but as she had been ill, Mrs Kendle gave her an extra three days to work on it. 

As she sat on the front steps of Chilton, waiting for her mother to come pick her up, she mentally went over the options she had for her choice of poem. Unbidden, the first one that came to her mind was "If I Could Tell You" but in her mind, she associated it too much with Tristan and well, she was trying her best to _not_ think of him. 

Keats? Shakespeare? Wordsworth? Yeats? Whose poetry should she choose? 

* * * * * 

(Late afternoon. Luke's. Stars Hollow) 

"Luke! Coffee!" Lorelai bellowed as Rory and her made her way to an empty table in the corner. Moments later, Luke came to their table and set down two tall glasses of water. 

Lorelai shuddered in distaste. "What is this useless liquid doing here?" 

"It's water." 

Lorelai gave Luke a scathing look. "Yes," she said, slowly, "I know it's water. What I want to know is what it's doing here." 

"For you to drink." At this, Lorelai shot an amused look to Rory, who just sat back to enjoy the conversation between the two. 

"I don't drink _water_. Coffee is my beverage of choice. Did you not hear me scream "Luke! Coffee!"? I didn't go "Luke! Water!". I don't want this. _We_ don't want this." Lorelai waved her hand dismissively. "We want coffee." 

"There's no more coffee." 

Lorelai twisted around in her seat and craned her neck. Seconds later, she turned back to Luke, her smile truimphant. "You lie! I see two coffee pots full of coffee right there." 

Five minutes later, the two had full cups of coffee in their hands. 

"Is your head feeling fine?" Lorelai asked. "Do you need to take the medicine?" 

Rory gulped down her coffee, shaking her head. "No, I'm fine. The doctor said that those pills are only for any headaches I get." 

Lorelai nodded. "Have you gotten any of those headaches?" 

"Nope, I'm been feeling okay. No headaches, no nothing. Good as new." 

"Uh oh," Lorelai muttered, her gaze on something beyond Rory's shoulder. "Guess who just came in." 

Rory winced, knowing exactly who it was. 

"Rory!" 

At the sound of his familiar voice which used to send tingles running down her spine, Rory turned around and gave a small smile. As he made his way to her, she inhaled deeply, trying to get herself together. Across from her, Lorelai reached out and gently squeezed her daughter's hand, trying to give her encouragement. 

"I'll be at the counter, getting more coffee," Lorelai said, getting up. Her eyes met Rory's which implored her to stay but she lightly shook her head, knowing that the young couple needed to talk. 

Rory sighed. "Okay, mom. Get me a cup, too." 

When he was finally at her table, he leaned down to kiss her but Rory quickly turned her cheek so that his lips didn't meet hers. She looked down at the table, her fingers playing with the napkin. She didn't want to see the confused look in his eyes. 

"Hi Dean," she mumbled. 

"Hey... I haven't seen you around in a few days. How are you doing?" 

Her eyes stayed on her coffee cup. "I'm doing okay." 

"I called you at your grandparents' during the weekend, but you never called back." 

Rory finally raised her eyes to his and bit her lip when she saw the hurt look in his eyes. "I didn't get any of your messages. I think they probably forgot to tell me." _Not that I would have known who you were anyway. _

"Oh." 

There was an awkward silence. 

"How was the weekend?" he asked. 

Rory jerked her eyes away from his, guilt overwhelming her. "It was... good." _Too good to be true._ She could feel his gaze on hers, and she looked up, meeting his pensive gaze. 

"Are _we_ okay? 'Cos I have the feeling that-" 

"Rory! We should get going," Lorelai called out. "We have a date with Brad Pitt and Tom Cruise, remember?" 

Rory silently thanked her mother for her impeccable timing. Apologetic, but secretly relieved, she said, "You heard my mom. We have plans." 

The conversation took a more light-hearted turn. "You have a date, huh? What about me?" 

Rory grinned. "What about you?" 

"Doesn't your boyfriend get a date with you too?" 

Rory tried not to wince at the term 'boyfriend'. It reminded her too much of Tristan. She tried to smile, but knew that it probably came out wrong. "Of course. Call my secretary and make an appointment." 

"Ro-ry!" Lorelai said in a sing-song voice. "Brad & Tom are waiting..." 

Rory laughed, and quickly gave Dean a perfunctory kiss on his cheek. "Bye." 

Before Dean could say anything, Rory had bounded out of there, with Lorelai at her heels. 

* * * * * 

(A little while later. Gilmore house. Stars Hollow) 

"Oh, before I forget, thank you." 

Lorelai grabbed a jar of cookies before turning to Rory. "For what?" 

"For your wonderful diversion tactics," Rory clarified. 

The two of them took their coffee and trudged out to the living room with all the tid-bits that they could carry with them. After putting in the tape of "Interview With A Vampire", they settled comfortably on the sofa. 

"By the way, you're welcome," Lorelai said. "I saw the distress signal you were giving out and decided to intervene and save you. What were you and Narcolepsy Boy talking about?" 

Rory sighed, snuggling deeper into the couch cushions. "He was asking me how I was, and told me that he called me during the weekend but I didn't return his calls. And he asked if we were okay. And that's when you intercepted with your diversion. Wonderful timing." 

"Rory, I think that you should at least tell him about the amnesia. He'll understand that." 

"I know... but that doesn't make it any easier to do." 

* * * * * 

(Thursday morning. Chilton.) 

Light applause filled the room as the student made his way back to his seat in the middle of the classroom. 

Mrs. Kendle smiled, her eyes scanning the students before her. "How about we hear from Tristan next?" 

Tristan's head snapped up, his fingers stilling; he had been fiddling with the small piece of paper in his hands. Swallowing back a hint of nervousness, he nodded and sauntered to the front of the room, hands clutching the paper with scribbled words on it. 

Fixing his eyes on his empty seat at the back of the room, he cleared this throat before starting to speak. "A Kiss On the Forehead by Marina Tsvetayeva" 

He paused, his eyes wandering to Rory before he went on. "_A kiss on the head wipes away misery- I kiss your head_." 

He inhaled deeply, his eyes on the slip of paper in his hands. He continued, his voice deepening, "_A kiss on the eyes takes away sleeplessness... I kiss your eyes._" 

Rory's eyes hadn't left him ever since he had walked to the front and when he lifted his eyes to hers, she tried not to react to the jolt of current that ran through her. 

"_A kiss on the lips quenches the deepest thirst..._" He licked his lips, and the motion drew Rory's eyes to his mouth. "_I kiss your lips_." 

"_A kiss on the head wipes away memory._" He paused meaningfully, his eyes holding hers. "_I kiss your head._" 

He was startled out of the small trance he was in by the applause that rang through the room. He dragged his eyes away from her and smiled as he walked back to his seat at the back of the room. 

While Rory waited for her turn, the words of the poem Tristan had chosen ran through her mind, complete with the look that he had given her. That look.. it was regret? Longing? Guilt? She didn't quite know. 

When her turn finally came, she told herself not to look at him. But when she looked up from her piece of paper, she realized that he was directly in her line of vision; his seat was in the middle of the room, right at the back. 

"Mad Girl's Love Song," she began, her voice soft. She cleared her throat and said in a louder voice, "by Sylvia Plath." 

She looked back down at the words and read them out: 

"_I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;  
I lift my lids and all is born again.   
(I think I made you up inside my head.)_" 

At the last line, she purposely locked her eyes with his before going on. 

"_The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,   
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:   
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.   
_

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed   
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.   
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"  


'You can go through with this,' she told herself. She continued: 

"_God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:   
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:   
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.   
_

I fancied you'd return the way you said,   
But I grow old and I forget your name.   
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"  


Her eyes had been on him since she had started reading out the poem. With an effort, she tore her eyes away and focused instead on the clock that was on the wall behind him. Her voice grew softer as she read out the last stanza: 

"_I should have loved a thunderbird instead;   
At least when spring comes they roar back again.   
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.   
(I think I made you up inside my head.)_"  


* * * * * 

(After school. On the bus back to Stars Hollow) 

She sat on the hard seat, exhausted from the day at school. The incident during the English Literature period had worn her out. She knew that the poems that they had both chosen had been designed to express thoughts and feelings thet they both didn't dare express to one another. Hell, she had agonized well into the night, thinking over which poem she would choose. In the end, it had been a fight between "Mad Girl's Love Song" and "If I Could Tell You". As she finally dropped off to sleep at nearly one in the morning, she decided on Sylvia Plath. Choosing the Auden poem would have been too obvious and too trite, she reasoned. 

On the way to school, she had painstakingly planned out every single moment, telling herself not to look at him while she read it out and praying that her voice and facial expressions wouldn't betray her. 

But she hadn't prepared herself for his poem. Or the rush of feelings she got whenever their eyes met. Or the way her heart constricted as she listened to him. 

They were dancing this intricate dance of avoidance, yet they were both trying to communicate with each other without actually having to talk and face one another. 

The dance of avoidance intensified after their Literature period. Once the bell rang, she bolted out of the room, not even stopping at her locker. She sought sanctuary at the library, finding an empty corner and trying to immerse herself in her copy of _Gone With The Wind_. 

She had somehow managed to not bump into him throughout the day and in the classes they shared, she kept her eyes away from him and left the room as soon as the bell rang. She had never been so glad to hear the final bell and finally get on the bus home. 

She knew they would have to talk, eventually. She would rather it be later than sooner. 

* * * * * 

Poem credit : "A Kiss On The Forehead" by Marina Tsvetayeva, "Mad Girl's Love Song" by Sylvia Plath. A thank you to **Wiccan** for the Sylvia Plath poem. 

* * * * * 

A.N : More action in the next chapter. A confrontation between Tristan and Rory and well... feelings are let out. And the everlasting question: Will Rory dump Dean? Or won't she? Heh :D Hopefully, it'll be out early next week, if all goes to according to my master plan. Hehe. :) 


	10. (I Can) Kiss Away The Pain

A.N : Thank you for the reviews. A little later than I had hoped but here's Part 10. Sorry for the delay, but I was kinda conflicted about what I wanted to happen. I'm taking my time with the angst and all that not-fun stuff ::ducks any flying fruit:: But really, don't worry... Rory and Tristan will _eventually_ get together. It will just take a few chapters.   
  


** * * * * *   
Something To Remember   
by inmyeyes   
Part 10 **

  


(Thursday evening. The park. Hartford) 

Had it happened to anyone else, he would have just laughed and called the guy a pathetic fool. But since all this had happened to _him_, he was not amused at all. However, he readily admitted that he was a pathetic fool. Well, actually, a pathetic cowardly fool. 

Here he was, for the third time that week, sitting on that same bench they had sat on on Monday, tracing the carved words that mocked him. Here he was, at the park where memories of them together assailed him; memories which made him berate himself for his stupidity and yearn for more of her at the same time. 

He had worn out his Brian McKnight CD and had to buy a new one. 'Anytime' had become a theme song of sorts for him and when his dreams of her tortured him, he would find himself in his living room, playing the song on the grand piano there. 

God, he was acting like one of those lovesick fools who pined over a lost lover or rather in his case, unrequited love. Those same lovesick fools whom he had just laughed at before. Those lovesick fools that he never thought he'd be. A lovesick fool: something no one would associate with Tristan DuGrey. 

He didn't have the nerve to even look her in the eye, let alone do anything. He felt like the lowest lifeform on earth whenever he saw her... especially when a pang of want ran through him whenever she was near. So, it was easier for him to avoid her; not that it was difficult since she too was avoiding him. He went about on his normal routine; laughing, flirting, smiling and living up to everyone's expectations of Tristan DuGrey. 

But every once in a while, his mask would slip and his eyes would find her and his heart would constrict with a pain that was so searing. And every once in a while, he catch Paris' contemplative gaze, telling him that she knew something was wrong. Then he'd just send a dazzling smile her way and hope she wouldn't interfere. That was all he needed to make his misery complete; Paris' interference. 

So yes, he was a pathetic cowardly lovesick fool. He just smiled wryly at the thought. 

* * * * * 

(Gilmore house. Stars Hollow) 

"You're not telling me something." 

Rory stopped her pacing and shot her friend a look. "I told you everything." 

Lane shook her head, leaning back on the couch. " You were in a car accident. You had amnesia. Tristan lied to you and told you you guys were dating. You spent time with him. And now you're pissed 'cos you've found out the truth." Lane paused, giving Rory a meaningful look. "I still say this story is missing something." 

Rory sat down next to Lane and shrugged. "It's not missing anything. I told you what happened." 

"But that was the cliff notes' version. I want it all, in technicolour glory and with sordid detail." 

"We kissed," Rory mumbled. 

Lane let out a shriek. "You kissed him!" 

"A lot. Many, many times." 

Lane sighed. "Now, _this_ is the kind of detail I'm talking about. Tell me about it." 

"About what?" 

"The kissing." 

"Lane!" 

"Oh come on, please? You know how I live vicariously through you!" 

"It was good," Rory admitted. 

Lane leaned closer, her eyes wide. "How good?" 

"The heart-wrenching, bone-melting, swoon-worthy type of good," Rory breathed, her traitorous mind replaying the kisses they had shared. 

"Wow," Lane sighed. There was a comfortable silence before Lane spoke again. "So... what are you gonna do?" 

"About?" 

"About Dean. About Tristan. About how you feel," Lane clarified. 

"I don't know." 

* * * * * 

(Friday morning. Chilton) 

"What's been going on with you and Tristan?" 

Rory resisted the urge to bash her head against her locker and chose to continue taking her books out. "Nothing's going on," she said curtly. She closed her locker, and faced the girl next to her. "Isn't that the way you want it, Paris?" 

Paris just shrugged. They both stood there for a moment, waiting for the other to say or do something. When nothing came, Rory just shook her head and brushed past Paris, only to bump into someone. 

Biting back a curse, she bent down to pick up the book she had dropped but a hand stopped her. The tingle that ran through her body at the contact told her exactly who it was she had bumped into. 

Tristan. 

They both straightened and he handed the book to her. Her eyes darted to him before she mumbled a quick apology, wanting to just get away from him. 

"Rory!" 

She didn't know why she stopped but she did. Taking a deep breath, she turned around and met his blue eyes. Clenching her jaw to keep from doing something stupid, like touching him, she stood here stonily, waiting for him to say something. 

"Look, I think we should talk," he said, moving closer to her. 

"I have nothing to say to you," she replied, taking a step back. 

"Well,_ I_ need to talk to you." 

"Well,_ I_ don't wanna hear it." 

"Rory," he said, his eyes pleading. Rory bit the inside of her cheek. She just shook her head and walked away. 

From a few feet away, Paris saw the desolate expression on Tristan's face as he watched Rory walk away. "Yeah, sure... nothing's going on," she muttered under her breath. 

* * * * * 

(Mid-morning. Chilton) 

Rory stared at the notebook on her desk, hoping that her Calculus teacher would stop droning on and on. She bit her lip as the sharp pain hit her head. Breathing deeply, she tried to ride out the wave of pain. The throbbing in her head was momentary but when it hit, it hit hard. Closing her eyes and shaking away the last of the pain, she turned her attention back to the teacher. 

From his seat diagonally behind her, Tristan watched her, his hands gripping the edge of the desk when he recognized the pain etched on her features. His worry increased when she reached up and rubbed her temples. He saw her visible relief when the pain went away and only then did he take his eyes off her. 

* * * * * 

(Lunch time. Chilton library) 

When she found an empty seat near the back of the library, she let her bag fall to the floor with a loud thud as she plopped herself down on the chair. Heaving a sigh of relief, she rested her head against the cool surface of the table. 

She winced as another round of pain hit her. The headaches and pain had become more intense as the day wore on. She tried to bear them as best as she could but now, she was exhausted and she felt like she just wanted to collapse into bed. Damnit, she should have brought those painkillers that the doctor prescribed with her. 

"Rory, are you all right?" 

Opening her eyes, she saw Paris peering at her. "I'm fine." 

"You don't look fine," Paris countered, taking in her pale face. 

Even through her pain, Rory managed to throw a scathing look. "Do you always have to disagree with me?" 

"I can't help it if you're wrong most of the time." 

Rory groaned and made a shooing motion with her hands. "Just go away, Paris. Leave me alone." 

Moments later, she heard the sound of footsteps going away from her. 

After a few minutes, Rory finally felt well enough to sit up. The pain was still there, but it wasn't as bad as it was before. Deciding that she needed to get some work done, she got up and made her way to the book shelves. 

* * * * * 

Fresh air. That was what he needed. He had to get away from his friends and distance himself from playing the game that he had played willingly for so long. He needed to get his head together. Making up an excuse, he had left the cafeteria and was in search of a quite place where he could just think. 

"Tristan!" 

The sound of Paris' voice echoed in the nearly empty hallway causing Tristan to sigh. It seemed like he couldn't get a moment to himself in this school. "Yes?" 

"You have to come with me," Paris said insistently. She grabbed his hand and tugged at him. 

"Why?" 

"Rory." 

The simple word was enough to make him follow her. He got a sick feeling in his gut. "What's wrong with her?" 

Paris didn't say anything but merely pulled him in the direction of the library. Tristan grabbed her and turned her to face him. "Tell me what's wrong, Paris," he demanded. 

"I don't know!" Paris said hurriedly. "But I know she's sick." 

When they finally got to the table where Rory's stuff were at, Paris' eyes widened in alarm when they didn't see her there. 

"Oh God, where is she?" Tristan mumbled, looking around for her familiar form. When he saw a seated figure leaning against a nearby book shelf, he ran there 

It was her. Rory was holding her head in her hands and the whimpering sounds she made almost made his heart break. Crouching down to her level, he uncurled her arms from around her body and wrapped his own around her, cradling her head against his shoulder. 

"Rory, sweetie, tell me what's wrong?" he pleaded, his hands stroking her soft hair. All he got in return was a moan of pain. He hated the feeling of helplessness that overtook him. 

Rory wrapped her arms around Tristan, burrowing her head against his neck as though seeking protection from the pain. One moment she was feeling okay, and the next thing she knew, the pounding in her head had become so bad that she nearly collapsed from it. Drawing from a reserve of strength she didn't know she had, she had leaned against the shelves, her hands holding her head. She thought the pain would taper off but instead, it just got worse. She had lowered herself to the floor, hands holding her head in an attempt to fight off the pain. 

Feeling Tristan's arms around her gave a small measure of comfort and she willingly crumbled into the protection that he was offering to her. Whimpering as the throbbing pain continued, she pulled herself closer to him. "Tristan.... make it go away," she whispered. 

His heart broke at the pleading in her voice. Gathering her up in his arms, he slowly stood up. Catching Paris' eyes, he said, "I'm taking her to the hospital. Could you help me and carry her stuff to my car?" 

Paris nodded. 

Turning to Rory, he asked, "Rory, can you walk? I'm taking you to the hospital." He felt her nod against his shoulder. "Okay then." 

With his arm around her waist, the pair made their way out of the library and into the hallway. They were half-way down the long hall-way when Rory gave a whimper of pain and leaned against him, her arms coming around to wrap around his waist. 

In an unconscious gesture, he leaned down and planted a light kiss on her head. Then, he hauled her into his arms and strode out the door and into the parking lot. He gave a grateful smile to Paris who was standing by his car with Rory's things by her side. She opened the car door and moved aside so that Tristan could put her inside. 

Once Rory was safely inside, Tristan gave her a quick hug and another grateful smile. "Thanks Paris. I owe you one." 

Paris just smiled. "Like I said, if you need a friend, I'm here." Her face turned sombre. "Call me when you know what's wrong." 

"I will," he promised. 

Moments later, Tristan's car roared to life and he sped out of the parking lot. 

* * * * * 

  


A.N : Errr... yeah. You're probably wondering what happened to that confrontation I mentioned and the answer to the Will-Dean-Be-Dumped-Or-Not question. It's coming... soon. Like the next chapter. Hang in there. 


	11. I Don't Wanna Fight (No More)

A.N : You guys are too kind; thank you for the wonderful reviews. :D 

*** * * * *  
Something To Remember   
by inmyeyes  
Part 11  
**

(A while later. Hospital. Hartford) 

It was almost like a replay of the previous week; he was seated in one of those hard, uncomfortable hospital chairs, waiting to hear word on Rory's condition. He leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. He just hoped she was all right. 

"Tristan," came a small voice from above him. 

He looked up and saw Rory smiling weakly at him. Jumping up, he engulfed her in his arms and felt his heart start to beat faster as he felt her reciprocate the gesture. "I was so worried. Are you feeling all right?" 

Rory inhaled his scent as she leaned her head against his shoulder, enjoying his warmth. "Yeah, I'm feeling okay now. The doctor prescribed me some medicine for the headaches." 

He pulled away slightly from her, his eyes concerned when they met hers. "Are the headaches serious?" 

She shook her head. "No, they're just because of the concussion. They'll go away in time. The doctor was just worried about the intensity of the pain, that's all." 

He kissed the top of her head and pulled her back into a quick hug. "Okay then. Let's get out of here." 

Ten minutes later, Tristan was desperately trying to think of a way to break the impenetrable haze of silence in the car. Sighing quietly, he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel impatiently as he waited for the light to turn green. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rory fidget restlessly and he caught the quick frown that she threw his way. He turned to her, wanting to say something but was cut off by the sound of a horn. Looking forward, he took his foot off the brake as he realized that the light had changed, biting his lip in frustration. 

The heavy silence hung for a few moments before her voice broke it. "Tristan?" 

"Hmm?" he mumbled, keeping his concentration on the traffic. 

"Thank you," was her muttered reply. 

At her words, he gave her a quick questioning look, noticing the sincerity shining from her eyes. 

"For taking me to the hospital," she explained. There was a slight pause and Tristan knew that she had more to say. "And," her voice had turned soft. "For caring." 

Taken by surprise at her last words, he swallowed the lump in his throat and quelled the hope rising in his chest. "You're welcome." 

They lapsed into silence again, but this time, it was a relatively more comfortable one. 

Rory fiddled with her hands, her nerves frayed. Being in such proximity with him put her on edge. Tilting her side to the side, she examined his profile, taking note of the strong line of his jaw, those soft lips, the girlishly long eyelashes and the tousled mass of blonde hair. In the recesses of her mind, she readily admitted that he was beautiful. Her throat went dry when his lips curled up into a knowing smile, acknowledging her gaze. Embarrassed, she tore her eyes away and shifted her attention to the scenery passing them by. 

"Tristan," she began, her tone conveying her uncertainty. "I think we should talk. We need to talk." 

He turned to her and arched his brow mockingly. He threw her words back in her face. "I thought you said that you didn't have anything to say to me. I thought you didn't want to hear what I have to say." 

Rory sighed, rubbing her eyes wearily. "We need to talk," she repeated, this time her voice was firmer. She faced him and saw the tense set of his jaw. "Look Tristan, don't play games with me. Either we-" 

"Fine, he cut her off. He took a deep breath, telling himself not to get worked up. "We'll talk." '_Of course_,' he thought. '_Now that I don't feel like talking, **she** wants to talk._' 

Moments later, Tristan turned into one of the many parking lots at the park and eased into an empty space. Turning off the engine, he turned to her and waited expectantly. "So, talk." 

Rory felt her annoyance flare up at the arrogant and closed-off look on his face. Moving closer to him, she leaned forward and jabbed her finger at his chest. "Don't you dare act the victim, DuGrey!" 

His expression didn't change. "You said that we needed to talk. So, talk." 

Rory clenched her jaw, fighting the urge to slap him. She shook her head at him and sneered. "I should have known you'd be like this. I should have known better than to think that the Tristan I knew this weekend was the real Tristan." 

"Don't say that you know me when you know nothing, Mary," he retorted. "You don't know anything about me!" 

She threw her hands up in frustration. "God, you make the transition from caring and concerned to asshole in three seconds flat!" Her voice dripped with sarcasm. "How do you do that? Inquiring minds want to know..." 

"I am not-" he broke off and gave a growl of frustration, his fingers clawing through his hair. This was not happening the way he wanted it to. 

"Damnit, Tristan. Just... ugh." She narrowed her eyes at him in anger before getting out of the car and slamming the door close. At that sound, Tristan closed his eyes and leaned his head on the steering wheel, telling himself to get things right. 

He was the most infuriating, mule-headed, annoying, unreasonable, arrogant jerk ever. That's what he was. And to think that she had considered... she shook her head resolutely. She wouldn't. That little episode in the car told her how wrong her rationale had been. Tristan and her... they could never work out. No matter how she felt, or what she hoped would happen... no matter what, eventually they would fall apart. It was better to save herself the heartbreak. Pushing away the rush of hurt and disappointment that threatened to overwhelm her, she shifted her eyes to the ground and blinked away the tears that she knew would come. 

A moment later, she heard the sound of another door slamming before she felt the touch of his hands on her shoulders. Determined to be stubborn, she kept her eyes on the ground and her arms crossed. 

"Rory..." 

The sound of his soft, apologetic voice almost sent her resolve crumbling. She blinked furiously, telling herself that she wouldn't let him see her cry. She bit her cheek as she felt his fingers move up her throat before he tipped her chin up when their eyes met. 

"I'm sorry." 

The whispered words were her undoing; her tight hold on her emotions broke and she felt tears silently slide down her cheeks. The tears came faster as she felt his thumbs gently wipe them away before he lightly kissed the tear stains marring her smooth skin. 

Praying that her voice wouldn't break, she asked, "What are you sorry for, Tristan?" 

"I'm sorry that I lied to you." 

Her smile was wry and he could tell that some part of her was mocking him. "No, you're not." 

He rested his arms on both sides of her head, effectively trapping her against the car. Then he leaned forward and rested his forehead on her shoulder, letting out a low chuckle. "You know me too well. I'm not sorry about what happened between us. I could never be sorry about that. But I _am_ sorry that I lied to you." 

She let him stay there for a while but did not allow herself the satisfaction of wrapping her arms around him. She inhaled deeply, enjoying the feel of him so close to her before lightly pushing him away. When his eyes landed on hers, she said, "No, that's the thing, Tristan." She paused and he could see the hurt in her eyes. "I don't know you too well. You said it yourself; I don't know you at all. How-" 

He reached out, grasping her arms and lightly shaking her as though hoping that he could shake some sense into her. "No, no. That's where you're wrong. During that weekend, you knew more of me than anyone else could never have learnt during that same thing. You knew so much more than I let anyone see." 

She shook her head. "Tristan-" 

"Rory, it may have started with a lie. But I swear to you... everything else was true. Everything I said, everything I did... and everything I felt, it was all true. None of it was a lie." When she didn't say anything, his eyes widened in desperation. "Rory, you have to believe me." 

"I know," was her whispered answer. 

"Rory-" 

"Look, let's just put what happened behind us," she suggested, keeping her eyes away from his so that he wouldn't see how hard this was for her to say. "It happened and we'll move on from it." 

Swallowing the lump that had taken up residence in his throat, he nodded numbly. A part of him wanted to scream at her, asking her how she could just put all those feelings and actions behind her while at the same time, another part of him was telling him to take what he could get, a part of him that was overwhelmed with relief that she was willing to forgive him. 

"I mean, what happened just shows that we can get along," her words stumbled on. "That we can be friends." She ignored the bittersweet taste of that word in her mouth._ Friends_. 

Somehow he found his voice. "Yeah, friends." He tried to smile. "Of course, we can be friends." Friends was better than nothing. Sure, it was less than what he wanted... but... 

"Right," she agreed. 

For a moment, the pair just stood there and it seemed like more was said in those few seconds than what had been said in the past few minutes. Apologies, excuses, reassurances... they were all passed in that single contact of their eyes. 

Clearing his throat, Tristan was the first to speak. "So, I guess I should take you home." She smiled and the action tore at his heart._ Friends._

"Yeah, I guess you should." 

* * * * * 

(Later. Gilmore house. Stars Hollow) 

"So this is your solution?" 

"Yup. That's my solution." 

Lane gave her friend an incredulous look. "No, it doesn't solve anything, Rory." 

"Yeah, it does," Rory disagreed. "I've got a new friend. And I still have my boyfriend." 

There was a short silence as Lane carefully looked over Rory. Tossing Lane a weird look, she fidgeted uncomfortably and let out a disgruntled "What?". 

"I was just wondering..." Lane said casually, immediately arousing Rory's suspicion. 

"Wondering what?" 

"Denial must have a lot of coffee to make you wanna take up permanent residence there." 

Rory let out a "hmmph" sound and crossed her arms, her eyes defiant. "I am _not_ in denial." 

"You're good at Math, right?" Lane asked and waited for Rory's nod before going. "Well, you missed out one thing in your equation." 

Rory sighed. "What did I miss out?" 

"You forgot to factor in your feelings for Tristan," she pointed out. 

"I did," was Rory's protest. "See.... Rory plus Tristan equals friends." 

Lane smirked. "It must be nice there in denial." 

All she got in response was a cushion aimed at her head. 

* * * * * 

(DuGrey residence. Hartford) 

He wanted to laugh at his desperation, but he needed to get things out before the dam in him broke. Impatient, he tapped his fingers on his bedside table and he waited for someone on the other end to pick up the phone. 

"Hi, may I speak to Paris?" 

"Tristan." He was surprised that she could recognize his voice. "How's Rory?" 

"She's fine. The headaches were side-effects of the accident. Nothing too serious; the doctor gave her some medicine for it." 

"Accident? What accident?" 

Tristan sighed. "Listen Paris... remember when you said that if I needed a friend, I could come to you?" 

"Yeah, I remember." 

"Well, I need a friend." 

On the other end of the line, Paris suppressed a loud sigh. '_Why are you such a sucker for him?_' She smiled ruefully, knowing exactly what, or rather who, it was he wanted to talk about. "Tell me everything." 

* * * * * 

(A little while later. Luke's. Stars Hollow) 

"Luke, can I get a glass of water here?" 

The request made him freeze in shock for a second before he reacted. "Did I just hear you ask for _water_?" 

Lorelai rolled her eyes and raised her voice. "Yes Luke, I asked for water." 

Muttering "smartass" under his breath, he reached over and poured a glass of water before handing it to Lorelai. 

She smiled innocently and passed the water to Rory. "Can I have coffee?" 

"Didn't you just ask for water?" 

Lorelai raised her voice again. "Yes, I did. But that's for Rory. I want coffee." 

Luke rolled his eyes. "Cut it out." 

Lorelai just grinned and gave Luke a mock salute when he finally gave her the much-needed coffee. Turning to Rory, she saw that the glass of water had remained untouched. "Rory, dear, take your medicine." 

"I don't wanna," she whined. 

"After what happened today-" 

"Okay, okay," Rory gave in and took the medicine that had been prescribed to her. 

"Good doggy," Lorelai praised, petting Rory on her head. She laughed at the dirty look at Rory shot her. "Speaking of doggies, here comes yours." 

Rory turned and saw that Dean had just entered the diner. "Mom!" 

"I know, I know... that was mean," she said. "But it was funny, wasn't it?" 

"Stop it! I'm gonna go over there and talk to him." 

"Good luck!" Lorelai called out. "I'll get Luke to send over some doggy treats." She just innocently took a sip of her coffee, ignoring Rory's chastising look. 

"Hey," she said, smiling tentatively as she stood in front of him. 

"Hey." His greeting was punctuated by a quick kiss on her lips. 

They sat down at an empty table and there was an awkward silence as Rory tried to find the guts to say what she needed to say. 

"I have something to tell you," she said, her fingers shredding a napkin into tiny strips. Her fingers were stilled when his hand settled on top of hers. Biting her lip, she looked up to meet his eyes. 

"That sounds bad." His tone was teasing but she saw the genuine worry in his eyes. Trying to reassure him, she squeezed his hand before letting it go. 

"It's not as bad it sounds, believe me." 

"Okay. Tell me." 

Rory took a deep breath. "There was something I didn't tell you about this weekend. On Thursday, I kinda got into this minor car accident and I got a concussion... and I had temporary amnesia." 

"Why-" 

She shook her head. "Can you please hear me out first?" Without waiting for him to answer, she went on. "I'm fine now, I just have some headaches here and there. Anyways, I stayed with at my grandparents' house the entire weekend. And I spent some time with Tristan." 

At the mention of Tristan's name, Rory saw Dean visibly stiffen. She hurried on with her explanation. "He was the one who found me. He was the one who called the ambulance and was there with me. And he was the one who kept me company that weekend." She braced herself for the outright lie that was going to leave her lips. "Nothing happened, Dean." 

Rory held her breath as she waited for him to say something but nothing came. "That's why I was acting a little weird when I first came back. I was trying to get my bearings back. That's all. And I want you to know that Tristan and I are friends now... and I'd like it if you could respect that." 

"Nothing happened?" 

She tried to smile reassuringly. "Nothing happened." 

"Are you all right?" 

This time, her smile was genuine. "My head aches sometimes, but otherwise I'm fine." 

"You sure?" 

She reached out to touch his cheek and saw him relax a little. "Yeah, I'm sure." Reaching into her pocket, she dug out the bottle of pills she had to take and shook it. "I have these now." 

Laughing lightly, Dean grinned and leaned forward to catch her lips in a slow kiss. Closing her eyes, Rory returned it and fought not to pull back when Tristan's image burned her mind. 

The sound of Luke clearing his throat pulled them apart. Rory tried not to laugh at the disapproving look Luke gave him and the way Dean shifted uncomfortably in his seat. 

"What's with your mom saying something about doggy treats?" he asked, confused. 

On that note, the laughter that had been building in her burst out. "Umm," she choked out. "I have no idea." 

When she finally managed to stop laughing, her eyes caught Dean's and a gasp was lodged in her throat when she noticed the adoring look in his eyes. 

Lane was wrong; her solution was perfect. 

* * * * * 

A.N : Okay. Please don't kill me. This will be a Trory story.   
Repeat it with me: "This will be a Trory story."   
I am evil. I know.   



	12. Can't Lose What You Never Had

A.N : Hee! Thank you for the reviews. I'd like to just say that writing about the R/D relationship is weird and unnatural for me. Bleah. Hopefully, it comes out okay. Onto the chapter! :)

Edit : Heh. Thanks for pointing out my very obvious spelling/typo mistakes during the Dean scene. Um... yes, I just skimmed that part when I was proof-reading so I missed that. Thank you! Hehehe. :D   


*** * * * *   
Something To Remember   
by inmyeyes   
Part 12   
  
**

(Friday morning. Chilton) 

Leaning against a locker, Tristan kept his eyes on the front door of the school as his friends around him caught up on the school gossip. Every once in a while, he'd tune in to the conversation, add an inane comment before drifting off again, his attention focused on the crowd of students moving into the building. 

He had spent the previous night doing what he had been doing for what seemed like so long; he was thinking about Rory Gilmore. 

"You're an idiot, you know that?" Paris had said to him. He laughed as she rambled on about how she may not have had any experience in these kind of things, but "even I can tell you how absolutely stupid that was. Which is very stupid. Possibly one of the stupidest things you could do in your life." 

His answer had been a solemn "I know." 

Then, Paris had sighed and basically told him that he couldn't do anything; the ball was in her court. He didn't like hearing it but having the words "All you can do is be her friend", coming from the mouth of the girl who had made Rory's life difficult in Chilton, made it all the more real. 

So here he was, after much contemplation on his part, taking a step in being her friend. Now, if only the friend in question would show her face... 

His lips curled into a smile as he finally saw her familiar figure walking through the hallway, towards her locker. Making a quick excuse, he grabbed something from his own locker before sauntering over to hers. He tapped her on her shoulder and grinned widely when she turned around. 

"Hello, friend." 

Rory gave him a weird look. " 'Hello, friend?' Where did that come from?" 

"It came from my heart." Even though she had turned her back on him and resumed rummaging through her locker, Tristan just knew that she was rolling her eyes at him. 

"God, that was the cheesiest thing I've ever heard you say. Where do you get these lines? Burn that self-help book!" 

Smirking, he moved to her side and propped himself up against the locker to her right. "I don't need any self-help book on how to pick up girls. I wrote that one." 

Rory's eyes widened in mock wonder. "Wow, what a wonderful achievement that is." 

Tristan just grinned in a self-satisfied manner. "What can I say? I am the master." 

Rory snorted. "Yeah, the master of delusion. And the master of bad pick up lines." 

"Hey, I'll have you know that my lines are fool-proof. There hasn't been a girl that has resisted my charms." 

Rory smiled and lay a hand on his arm in sympathy. "Tristan, blow-up dolls don't count as girls." 

He pouted. "Now, now... don't be mean. Not when I have something for you." 

Rory closed her locker and zipped up her bag before hauling it onto her shoulder. "I'm not being mean; I'm just telling you the hard, cold facts." 

"Fine then," he said, showing her the cup of Starbucks coffee that he had hidden behind his back. "I'll just drink this." Just as he brought the cup up to his lips, he felt Rory's hand on his wrist. 

"You can't do that," she protested, reaching for the cup. 

Tristan moved his hand so that the cup would be out of her reach. "Why not?" 

"It was meant for me. So you can't drink it." 

Tristan made a "tsk" sound. "What a weak argument, Rory Gilmore. But since I'm a nice guy," he ignored Rory's snicker, "I'll give it to you." 

Before he even finished the sentence, Rory had taken the cup of his hands and smiled brightly at him. "Thanks." 

He returned the smile as the pair made their way down the hallway to their first period class. "You're welcome. I figure I should start this," and he tried not to choke on the word, "friendship thing on a good note." 

"Trying to score brownie points, huh?" Rory grinned. "Well, it's working." 

As they entered the classroom and made their way to their seats, Tristan flashed a grin in Paris' direction and discreetly gave her a thumbs up. Paris just rolled her eyes but he saw the tiny smile on her lips. 

* * * * * 

(After school) 

"Hey Paris!" 

At the sound of her name, she stopped walking, turned and waited for Rory to catch up with her. "What can I do for you, Gilmore?" 

Rory bit her lip and nervously shuffled her feet. "I just wanted to say thank you. You know, for yesterday." 

Paris nodded. "You're welcome." She turned on her heel but changed her mind and turned back to Rory. "Look, we may not get along all the time but I don't hate you. Yesterday was just something I would have done for anyone else." 

"Thanks." 

Paris nodded again but this time, she also smiled. "One more thing," her expression turned solemn. "Don't lead him on. He cares about you a lot." 

Rory didn't have to ask who Paris was referring to and she also didn't know what to say to her. "I know," she mumbled, her eyes cast on the floor. 

This time, Paris' smile was wry. "No, I don't think you do." 

Brows furrowed in confusion, Rory just stood there, thinking it over as she watched Paris' departing figure. 

* * * * * 

(Saturday evening. Gilmore house. Stars Hollow) 

"So I'll see you tomorrow?" 

Her smile vanishing, Rory averted her eyes from Dean's. Her fingers fiddled with the hemline of her top as she mumbled, "Um, I'm busy tomorrow." 

"You're doing something with Lane?" 

She kept her eyes on the ground. "No." She breathed deeply, hoping that this wouldn't turn into a big deal. "I have plans with Tristan." She heard his harsh in-drawn breath and nervously waited for his response. 

"Oh," he finally said. 

Anxious, she looked up and met his gaze, hoping that his eyes would give away some of what he was feeling but she found nothing. "Dean-" 

He shook his head and held his hand up, telling her that she didn't need to go on. He tried to smile. "I said that I would respect your friendship with him." He reached out and tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "And I do. But I don't have to like it, Rory." 

Rory sighed, but knew that that was the best that she could expect from him. "I know." 

Leaning up on her tip-toes, she brushed her lips across his. When he snaked his arm around her waist to bring her closer to him, she let him and rested her hands on his shoulders as her lips parted beneath his, deepening the kiss. 

In the dark recesses of her mind, she dimly acknowledged that kissing Dean was different from kissing Tri-. '_No_,' she told herself, running her hand across the nape of Dean's neck as she tried to immerse herself in the kiss. '_You won't think about his kisses. You can't think about his kisses. Not now._' 

Just as she finally managed to quiet the voices in her head, Dean pulled away, smiling tenderly down at her. 

Moments later, she closed the front door behind her and sagged against it, feeling utterly dejected. Closing her eyes, she slid to the floor; she leaned her head against the door, brought her legs up to her chest and then leaned her head on her knees. 

And all she could see was Tristan's face; the water dripping off his jaw, his soft lips and that look in his hazy blue eyes that told her that he wanted her. She could still remember the feel his lips on hers, branding her and stirring up emotions that she didn't think she would have for him; emotions that she thought she was not capable of feeling. 

He had ruined Dean's kisses for her; before, she had been perfectly content with them, revelling in the sharp shock to her system that followed every time their lips met. She enjoyed the short but meaningful kisses they had shared; she had liked the intimacy. But Tristan and his soul-stirring kisses made the kisses with Dean seem tepid and unexciting. Kissing Tristan held this note of excitement, of anticipation... and the feel of their lips melding together was the most intoxicating thing ever. 

She was well aware that kissing a _friend_ should not feel that way. But she didn't want to analyze that. 

* * * * * 

(Later that evening) 

The kernel of popcorn that hit her forehead finally snapped her out of her reverie. She turned her head and saw her mother throwing her a curious look. 

"What's on your mind?" 

"Nothing," she muttered. 

"Nothing must be pretty good for you to space out while watching your favourite movie." 

Rory rolled her eyes and threw a cushion in Lorelai's direction. "_Casper_ is not my favourite movie." 

"That wasn't what you said a few years ago," Lorelai pointed out. 

"I was young and naive," Rory protested. 

"You had a crush on Devon Sawa," Lorelai countered. 

"I did_ not_." 

"Did to." 

"Did _not_." 

"Did to." 

Rory sighed, knowing that Lorelai wouldn't give up until she gave in. "I was thinking about kissing." 

"Kissing Devon Sawa?" Lorelai wriggled her eyebrows. 

Rory threw a handful of popcorn at her. "No, just kissing in general." 

"Oh... kissing Tristan, you mean?" 

Rory crossed her arms and leaned back against the couch cushions. "I hate how perceptive you can be sometimes," she muttered. 

Lorelai shrugged. "It's a curse, what can I say?" Reaching for the remote control, she put the television on mute. "So... tell me." 

It was Rory's turn to shrug. "Nothing to tell." 

"When you're thinking about kissing someone who's not your boyfriend, there's always something to tell." 

Rory groaned, grabbed a pillow and buried her face in it. "Especially when you're thinking of kissing someone else while your boyfriend is kissing you." 

"You were thinking about kissing Tristan while you were kissing Dean?" Lorelai exclaimed, her eyes wide in surprise. Then she let out a shriek of glee. "Oh, this is better than I thought." 

"Nice to see you finding pleasure from my misfortune, mom," Rory said dryly. 

"I take my entertainment any way I can get it." 

"Sadist." 

"Hey now, no need to insult me." Lorelai put on a wounded look. 

"I'm just confused, mom," Rory said. 

"Well, good. You're supposed to be confused." Lorelai paused for a moment before speaking again. "Rory, I just want you to know that whatever decision you make... it should be about you; not about Dean or Tristan. It should be about what _you_ want." 

"But I don't know what I want!" 

Lorelai leaned closer and planted a kiss on Rory's forehead. "I think that somewhere in that mess in your mind, you do." 

* * * * * 

(Sunday afternoon) 

No one was more surprised than him by Rory's invitation to hang out together. He had been thrilled by the idea but he had forced himself to seem nonchalant. Instead he chose to pass some comment about how she couldn't go a day without seeing him, earning him a smack on his arm. Yet, he had been conscious of the wide grin on his face when he finally did accept her offer. 

He had been glad that there had been no awkwardness between them after all that had happened. The banter that had come easily to both of them still existed, although this time the remarks were more teasing than scathing. He had been afraid that she would pull even further away from him, that her offer of friendship had been nothing more than words hastily spoken. He should have known better than to doubt her that way. 

So, here he was, standing on her front porch and telling himself to calm down. He kept on repeating to himself, "This is nothing but two friends just hanging out together." His mantra didn't work though; this was not just nothing. This was Rory Gilmore and this was his first time at her house, his first time spending quality friend-time together. This was nerve-wracking. 

Raking his fingers through his hair, he sighed one last time before ringing the doorbell. 

The smile that was etched on his face when Rory swung open the door came easily. "Hey." 

"What? No 'hello friend'?" she teased, gesturing for him to enter. 

He shook his head and laughed lightly as he crossed the threshold into the Gilmore house. "Are you ever gonna let that go?" 

"Never." 

He grinned. "Wouldn't expect any less." 

"So," Rory began, bouncing anxiously on the balls of her feet. "Movie first or eat first?" 

"I think the answer you wanna hear is coffee first," he said. 

"How smart of you, Tristan. You must really be giving your three brain cells a work-out." She smiled innocently before grabbing her jacket and opening the front door again. 

As they walked down the driveway, his curiosity made him ask, "Three brain cells?" 

"One for girls, one for sports and the other for your self-absorbed musings," she explained, nudging his shoulder playfully. 

He gave her a side-ways look. "You seem to have given this a lot of thought." 

Rory laughed. "You're not exactly the most complex person, Tristan." 

"Hey," he exclaimed, pushing her lightly. "I resent that!" 

"More like, you resemble that." 

"I think I have at least four cells," he protested. 

She gave him an amused look. "Oh, do tell." 

"The fourth cell is for food," he clarified. 

She gestured to the store in front of them. "Great... your fourth cell can do some work when you decide what you wanna eat." 

"Um, Rory... that's a hard-" 

She tugged on his arm as she pushed the door open. "Just go with it." 

* * * * * 

(A little while later) 

Tristan gave a tiny shudder. "I thought he was gonna put me in a headlock or something." 

"Luke's always like that," Rory laughed as the pair made their way back to the Gilmore house. "He was actually pretty nice to you." 

"_That_ was nice?" he asked incredulously. 

She nodded. "Yeah, compared to his reaction to Dean-" 

Tristan stifled a sigh at the uncomfortable silence between them at the mention of Dean. He shook his head imperceptibly and laid a hand on her arm. At his touch, she stopped walking and gave him a questioning look. 

"Rory, we're friends now, right?" When she nodded, he went on, "Talking about him should not be uncomfortable. He shouldn't be a taboo topic of conversation between us." Inwardly, he wondered why he was torturing himself by making her boyfriend an open subject between them. 

"I just don't feel comfortable mentioning him to you yet," she explained. 

He felt a tiny sliver of relief run through him; he knew that he didn't feel comfortable listening to her talk about him. "Okay." 

"Ro-ry," came a sing-song voice from behind them. 

"Oh God," she muttered. She looked apologetically at Tristan before spinning around and smiling politely at Miss Patty. 

"Rory, dear, I heard from Kirk about your friend. And what a fine specimen of a friend he is," she cooed. 

Rory sneaked a look at Tristan and tried to hold in her laughter at the look of nervousness that was splayed on his face. "Miss Patty, this is my friend, Tristan. We go to Chilton together." She turned to him and grinned at his help-me look. "Tristan, this is Miss Patty... she owns the dance studio here." 

Miss Patty smiled brightly and laid a hand on his arm. "It's definitely a pleasure to meet you, Tristan." 

"The pleasure's all mine, ma'am," he said, trying to ignore how the woman was looking at him as though he was a piece of meat. 

"Well, Miss Patty, we gotta go," Rory said hurriedly. 

"Okay, dear," she said, her eyes still on Tristan. Winking at him, she said, "Hope to see you around, Tristan." 

As Miss Patty sashayed away from them, the two of them quickly walked towards Rory's house. Once she was out of their ear-shot, Rory broke down and let loose with the gales of laughter that she had been holding in. 

"Oh my God," she choked out. "The look on your face was priceless!" 

Tristan narrowed his eyes at her and crossed his arms, silently admitting to himself that he loved the way she laughed and the rosy tint of her cheeks and her bright eyes and-. He pointed a finger at her. "Laugh all you want, missy. Just you wait." 

Finally she managed to compose herself once her house came into view. But then, another problem presented itself. "Oh... crap," she mumbled, steeling herself for some sort of confrontation. 

Tristan noticed how quickly she had tensed up. Just as he was about to ask her what was wrong, he caught sight of Dean. He suppressed the wave of jealousy that rose in his chest. '_You will not create a scene. You will not create a scene._' he told himself. As they walked up the steps to her front door, he clenched his fists and forced himself to be as civil as he could. 

"Hi Dean," Rory chirped, but to his ears, it sounded as though her cheerfulness was forced. "What are you doing here?" 

"Just wanted to see you for a while," he answered, giving her a quick kiss. His possessive hold on her waist did not go unnoticed by Tristan. '_Just breathe, man. Just breathe._ ' 

Trying not to be too obvious, Rory squirmed out of Dean's hold on her and grinned, trying to dispel the tension in the air. "Dean, you know Tristan, right?" 

"Yeah," he replied, his voice tight. He returned her smile but she noticed the warning look that he threw to Tristan. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tristan slightly incline his head in Dean's direction, acknowledging his presence. 

He couldn't watch this, couldn't watch them together. "Rory, I'll wait for you inside." 

Without waiting for any answer, Tristan opened the front door and strode to her living room, seating himself on the couch with a loud sigh. Propping his arms on his knees, he leaned forward and ran his fingers through his already tousled hair. The word friend reverberated through his mind. 

* * * * * 

(Outside) 

Once the door closed, Rory turned to Dean, her eyes flashing in frustration. "You had to come and check on me, didn't you?" 

"I wasn't-" 

Rory sighed. "Dean, you don't have to-" 

"I know, I know," he sighed. He gestured towards the house. "But he has a thing for you and I can't just stand by and let him steal you away from me." 

"Dean..." she said wearily. 

"You can't blame a guy for trying to look out for his girlfriend, can you?" he asked, lightly brushing his knuckles against her cheek. 

She saw the apology in his eyes. "No, you can't." 

* * * * * 

(Inside) 

Lorelai leaned against the doorway to the living room, cup of coffee in hand as she observed the young man seated on her couch. She watched the play of emotions on his face; the frustration, the jealousy, the resignation. 

"You must be the infamous Tristan," she called out. 

The boy stopped tugging on his hair and turned to face her. "You must be Lorelai." 

"Rory has taught you well, oh young one," she said, sitting in the armchair opposite him. 

He smirked. "Yeah, she gave me some pointers that she said were necessary for my survival in the Gilmore house." 

Lorelai took a sip of her coffee and watched him carefully over the rim of her cup. "You must really like her." 

Tristan shrugged, uncomfortable with the line of questioning. He kept his eyes averted from hers and instead, studied the pattern of the cushion in his hands. "She's a good friend." 

Before Lorelai could say anything, Rory entered the room and unceremoniously flopped down on the couch next to Tristan. Seeing the weary look in her eyes, Lorelai offered her cup of coffee which was readily accepted. 

"Thanks mom," she said, once she had gotten a gulp of the coffee. 

"So, what are you kiddies doing?" she asked, grinning to try and brighten up the atmosphere in the room. 

"We're watching _Runaway Bride_ ," Rory answered, grateful for the topic that had been brought up. 

"Oooh, can I join?" 

"Of course, you can." Rory got off the couch to put the video into the VCR. 

"Wait a sec," Tristan interrupted. "_Runaway Bride_? I did not agree to this." 

"Didn't Rory fill you in on the Gilmore rule #13?" Lorelai asked, as the opening credits rolled. 

Rory made herself comfortable on the couch, at the opposite end from Tristan. "Nope, I didn't get that far." 

Lorelai reached out and patted his shoulder. "Gilmore rule #13: Never protest against the viewing of a Julia Roberts movie. Sit back and enjoy the show, buddy" 

Tristan did just that. 

* * * * * 

A.N : No Trory happiness... _ yet_. Um... soon? [nods] Heh. :D 


	13. Saying Something Stupid (Like I Love You...

A.N: Reviews = Good. :D Thank you! This chapter picks up with what happened in an episode of GG. I won't say which one 'cos I don't wanna give anything away yet, though you'll probably be able to tell quite early on. Read on... 

*** * * * *   
Something To Remember   
by inmyeyes   
Part 13 **

(A week later. Wednesday morning. Chilton) 

"Hello friend," came the teasing voice from behind him. 

Tristan closed his locker and turned to face her, smiling. "Hello Mary." He noticed the cup of coffee in her hands. "I see you're in a good mood." 

Rory grinned in reply and held up the cup in a toast before taking a large gulp. "Yup, I'm in a fabulous mood." 

As the pair walked down the hallway, Tristan casually slung his arm around her shoulder. "Why? Is that a double expresso?" 

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly, shrugging off his arm as she finished off the coffee and threw the cup in a nearby bin. "Coffee's not the only thing that makes me happy, you know," she pointed out. 

His grin widened, and she just _knew_ that the words that would leave his lips would make her roll her eyes again. He didn't fail her: "Nope,_ I_ make you happy too." 

She snorted and shook her head, ignoring the pang in her heart that screamed out how much being near him really made her happy. "Hah! In your dreams, DuGrey." 

"Every night, Rory... every night," he said, smiling to disguise the sliver of hurt in his eyes. 

"Hey guys!" a perky voice from in front of them called out. 

They stopped and turned, seeing Madeline wave them over from her spot near the lockers with Louise and Paris. Rory wanted to laugh at the annoyed expression on Paris' face but held it in; Paris had actually been civil to her... nice even and she was enjoying the peaceful co-existence between them. '_No need to spark off anything_,' she reasoned. She gave herself a mental pat on the back for her right choice when Paris actually smiled at her. 

"Hey, party at my house Saturday," Madeline announced when Tristan and Rory were in ear-shot, grinning widely. 

"Dress to impress please," Louise suggested, her comment making both Rory and Paris roll her eyes. The two shared a look when Louise blatantly ran her eyes up and down Tristan's body and smiled slyly. Rory had to marvel at how well they were really getting along. 

"Who are you planning to impress?" Tristan grinned lasciviously, arching his brow. Rory just snickered and smacked his chest. 

Before Rory could say anything, Madeline had dug out a flyer and was handing it to her. "Come?" 

"Oh, I don't know," Rory frowned. 

"You can bring your boyfriend." 

Tristan hid a grimace at the mention of "boyfriend" and ducked his head, trying to hide his expression. Moments later, when he looked up and affected a nonchalant look, his eyes caught Paris'. He saw her give a subtle shake of her head and smile sympathetically. He could do nothing but give her a rueful smile of his own. 

"I'll see," Rory replied non-committedly. 

"I'll be there," Tristan offered. 

"Great!" Madeline chirped, as the bell rang. 

* * * * * 

(The next day. End of school. Chilton) 

He was waiting for her outside the front doors, fiddling with his tie as he impatiently tapped his foot. When he finally saw her dark head, he strode over to her. 

"What took you so long?" 

"Had to speak to Mrs Caldecott," she explained, tugging on the strap of her bag so that it rested more comfortably on her shoulder. "Why were you waiting for me?" 

Sighing, he threaded his fingers through his hair, surprised at the nerves that were attacking him even in doing a simple thing like asking if she wanted to hang out with him. "Are you doing anything tomorrow afternoon? I thought we could watch a movie or whatever." 

"Yeah, okay," she agreed, not noticing the relieved look on Tristan's eyes. "But I have to go for dinner at-" Suddenly, something clicked in her mind. Her eyes apologetic, she looked up at him and laid a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry, I can't. I just remembered that I have plans tomorrow." 

He tried to push away the disappointment that filled him. "Oh," he said. He waved his hand dismissively. "It's okay. We can do that some other time." 

Rory bit her lip, wondering if she should tell him. "Tomorrow, Dean & I are celebrating our three-month anniversary." 

This time, it wasn't disappointment that coursed through his veins but rather, a sharp kind of pain that permeated in his heart; a feeling that was much more difficult to ignore or push away. 

When he didn't say anything and his neutral look didn't give away anything of what he was feeling, she started to ramble to hide her nervousness. "Well, technically, our anniversary is on Saturday but he has to work so we're celebrating it on Friday." 

He hoped his smile was convincing. "Hope you have a good time." He looked at anything but her. "I, um... I have to go. I'll see you tomorrow." 

Watching his retreating form, she didn't want to think about why she felt disappointed. 

* * * * * 

(Friday evening. Gilmore house. Stars Hollow) 

Three months. 

She had been with Dean for three months. It sure didn't feel like it... especially lately, when she sometimes found her mind wandering while she was with him. Her traitorous mind couldn't help drudging up the memories of that weekend when everything seemed simple and perfect. Reality was not much fun, when you're pining over someone who's not your boyfriend. 

Now, it seemed like there was nothing new or interesting in her relationship with Dean. It was as though they were already an old married couple, but without the same comfort level, intimacy and shared feelings. 

They were an old _boring_ married couple and it seemed like she couldn't wait until the "til death do us part" because she was suffering. It wasn't his fault though; it was hers. It was her who cared for someone else. It was her who imagined someone else kissing her whenever their lips touched. It was her who wanted someone else. It was all her. 

As she put on the finishing touch of gloss on her lips, she debated the merits of telling Dean about Madeline's party and asking him if he would go with her. Plus, having both Tristan and Dean in the same room at the same time was bound to cause some uncomfortable scenes. Sure, he had been quite understanding about her friendship with Tristan but she still didn't feel comfortable enough talking to him about the things that Tristan and her did. In fact, now that she thought about it, they practically avoided the topic of her newfound friendship. She knew that listening to her talk about Tristan was asking too much from him and besides, she didn't want to offer any tidbits of information lest she say something that might give away her changing feelings. 

A knock on her door snapped her out of her thoughts. "Come in," she called out. 

Lorelai's head peeked in. "Hey." 

"Hey mom, come on in." 

"You look great," she said, sitting down at the edge of Rory's bed. 

Rory smiled but knew that their mother could see through her. "Thanks." 

"You know, for a girl who's celebrating a three-month anniversary, you sure look cheery," Lorelai commented, her voice dripping with sarcasm. 

"Don't start, Mom," Rory pleaded. "I just wanna go, have a good time and come home. The end." 

Lorelai reached out and smoothed a stray piece of hair. "No, you're gonna go, have a good time but still think about Tristan and come home." 

"Shut up," Rory groaned. "Don't mess with my mission statement." 

"You have a mission statement?" 

Rory glared at her. "I used to. Before you messed with it." 

Lorelai held up her hands in defeat. "Okay, okay... topic change. Where is he taking you?" 

"How is that a topic change?" Rory asked. 

"We're not talking about Tristan anymore, are we?" Lorelai said pointedly. 

"Well, if you must know, he's taking me to Andoloro's" 

"Oh, well isn't that romantic?" 

Rory sighed. "I know." 

"Wow, it's gonna be just like Lady and the Tramp. You'll share a plate of spaghetti, but it'll just be one long strand, but you won't realize it until you accidentally meet in the middle. And then, he'll push a meatball towards you with his nose, and you'll push it back with your nose, and then you'll bring the meatball home and you'll save it in the refrigerator for years and... " 

"Mom!" Rory cut in. "You're not helping. You're butchering my mission statement and throwing its remains into the ocean." 

Lorelai leaned forward in interest. "You really must tell me what this mission statement is." 

" 'Don't think about Tristan.' That's my mission statement," Rory clarified. 

Lorelai nodded, trying to look suitably impressed. "Wow, good call on the statement. So is this like a mission statement for just tonight, or is it for everyday?" 

"It's for everyday. It's my mantra every morning I get up. _Don't think of Tristan._" A loud beep from outside sounded and Rory sighed. "That's Dean." 

Lorelai gave her daughter a hug. "Bye honey, have fun. May your mission statement work." She followed Rory out to the hallway and leaned against a wall as Rory put on her shoes and opened the front door. "Don't forget the meatball!" 

* * * * * 

(DuGrey residence. Hartford) 

He was working himself into a frenzy, trying to imagine what was happening during Rory's date with Dean. He was acting like a jealous boyfriend, except that he had no right to be jealous since he had no claim on her. 

"We're just _friends_," he mumbled, practically spitting out the last word. 

He was feeling as though he was a caged animal. Growling in frustration, he stopped pacing and plopped himself on his king-sized bed, burying his head in his pillows. 

The silence ate at him; it was positively deafening. He leaned to the right, his hands feeling for the remote control for his stereo. When he finally found it, he clicked the 'on' button, only to let out a loud groan when the strains of Brian McKnight filled the room. He sat up and clicked the 'off' button; he preferred the deathly silence. 

Making a decision, he reached for his keys and cell phone before striding out of his room. The door slammed behind him. 

* * * * * 

(Later that night. Junkyard) 

As she lay snuggled in his arms, she couldn't quite believe all the things that he had done for her. Dinner had been great and now... _this_! He was building her a car. Dean had to be the best boyfriend a girl could ask for... if it wasn't for the fact that Tristan was lingering in the fringes of her mind. 

This should not be happening; here she was, in her boyfriend's arms, watching the stars and all she could think of was Tristan and how she had felt in his arms that night at the park when they had first kissed. 

_Don't think about Tristan. _"I'm having one of those moments right now." 

"What moments?" 

"One of those moments that everything is so perfect and so wonderful that you almost feel sad because nothing can ever be this good again." 

"So, basically, I'm depressing you." 

Rory grinned. "Yup." 

"You're very weird." 

"And you're wonderful." 

She turned her head to face him just in time for his lips to land on hers._ Don't think of Tristan. _Reaching up, she lightly lay a hand on his cheek and returned his kiss. 

"Rory?" 

"Yeah?" She lay back in the circle of his arms, smiling... thoughts of Tristan seemingly forgotten. 

Dean took the time to savour the moment, caught up in the feeling of this wonderful girl in his arms. "I love you." He paused, waiting for her to say something... to say anything. As a few seconds passed, fear lanced through his heart. "Rory?" 

She closed her eyes, wishing that she had just imagined those words, wishing that she could turn back those few seconds and stop him before it was said, wishing that it wasn't Tristan face that was emblazoned in her mind right now. "Yeah?" 

"Did you hear me?" 

She heard the uncertainty in his voice but didn't know what to say. "Uh huh." 

"Well, say something." 

"I... I..." 

"Yeah?" He held his breath, hoping to hear what he wanted to hear. 

She felt walls closing in on her, knowing that she had to say something. "I love the car," she blurted. 

Despair was difficult to swallow and hard to disguise. "Uh, and that's it?" 

Rory turned to him, trying to make him understand. "No. I just...I'm surprised, I didn't expect... I don't..." 

His chest felt heavy with misery. "You don't love me." 

She laid her hand on his, trying to take away the pain that she saw in his eyes. "No, I just have to think about it for a minute. 

"Think about what?" 

"Well, saying I love you is a really difficult thing." 

"Well, I just did it," he pointed out, his tone harsh. 

"And you did it really well." 

Dean pulled away from her. "What the hell does that mean?" 

"I'm sorry. Please. This totally came as a surprise. I mean, with the dinner, and the car, and then the… I just need a minute to think," she said frantically. 

"This is not something that you think about Rory," he said, running a hand through his hair in a gesture of frustration. "This is either something that you feel or you don't." 

She closed her eyes and saw Tristan in her mind again. _I know. _"Please, don't be mad," she pleaded. 

"Why? Because I say I love you and you wanna think about it?" He knew he shouldn't say it, but he did anyways. "I mean, go home and discuss it with your mother? Make one of your pro/con lists?" 

She shook her head, a stray tear falling down her cheek. "Not fair." 

"I'm sorry. I'm an idiot. I don't even know what I was thinking." His tone was caustic. 

"Dean. Please, it's just not that easy for me. I mean, saying I love you means a lot. Think about it from my point of view. I mean, my mom and our life. I mean, my mom said that she loved my dad and then..." It was an excuse and it sounded absolutely feeble in her mind. _Don't think of Tristan. _

"You don't get pregnant saying I love you." 

"I know. I'm just confused. I need to… It's a really big deal." 

Dean shook his head wearily, knowing that he was fighting a losing battle. She didn't love him. It was as simple as that. He would go home and lick his wounds. "Fine, come on." 

"Dean, please don't be mad," she begged, her eyes welling up with tears. 

"I'll take you home," he murmured defeatedly. 

"Dean, tonight was amazing. It was perfect. Please, I swear, I just need a minute to..." 

He looked away from her. He couldn't see her cry; he knew that seeing her that way would only make him feel even worse. "Whatever, it doesn't matter, all right? Let's go." 

* * * * * 

(The park. Hartford) 

He was sitting in an empty field, his eyes on the inky black sky as he idly fingered a blade of grass. 

He had been thinking for a while now, trying to come up with a way to ease the pain and frustration within him. And after a while, he came to one logical conclusion: he would give up on her. 

It sounded so easy but he knew that it would take a lot to try to forget the insane way she managed to affect him. It was going to doubly hard because he was still going to remain friends with her. He was setting himself up for torture, he realized but he knew that if he set his mind to it, he would somehow eventually get over her and find someone else. It would take a lot of willpower and a solid defence around his heart. 

So, he decided, yes, he would give up on her. He expected to feel lighter, less burdened but the feeling seemed to heighten. 

What if he could never get over her? What if being near her only made him love her more? What if he could never love anyone the way he loved her? What if-" 

The loud, insistent ringing of his cellphone jarred him. When he took a look at the called-ID, he was immediately concerned. 

"Tristan?" 

He closed his eyes, wanting to laugh at the irony of it all. "What's wrong?" 

* * * * * 

(Gilmore house. Stars Hollow) 

The sound of the front door closing woke Lorelai from her light sleep. "Rory?" 

Rory took a deep breath and struggled to keep her voice steady. "We broke up." 

In two strides, she was hugging Rory who returned the embrace fiercely. "What happened?" 

Rory shook her head, not willing to relive what had just happened. "I don't wanna talk about it." She sought comfort in her mother's arms for a while more before carefully disentangling herself. Her smile was shaky. "I just wanna go to sleep. Maybe it'll seem better in the morning." 

Lorelai looked over her daughter carefully. "Are you sure? I can make a quick run and get us some ice-cream and candy." 

Rory shook her head. "No, it's all right, Mom." 

"You sure?" 

"I'm sure," she reaffirmed as she opened her bedroom room. Her facade fell away as she closed the door behind her. Biting her lip to keep from crying, she threw herself on her bed. Her eyes stared unseeingly at her pristine white ceiling as her mind played an encore viewing of what had happened. 

_"I love you." _

"You don't love me." 

"This is not something that you think about Rory. This is either something that you feel or you don't." 

Rolling onto her side, she picked up the phone and dialed; her heart hammering as she waited for someone to pick up. 

"Tristan?" 

* * * * * 

(A little while later) 

He waited impatiently for someone for answer the front door. When the door finally swung open, he looked up and shared a worried look with Lorelai. 

"Is she all right?" 

Lorelai moved aside and let him enter. "She says she's okay... but I know she's lying." 

Tristan sighed. "Where is she?" 

"In her room." When she saw the questioning look in his eyes, she added, "You can go in there." 

"Thanks Lorelai." 

"Just talk to her, okay?" 

Tristan nodded as he lightly rapped on her door. "Rory, it's me. Can I come in?" 

"Yeah," came the shaky voice. 

He opened the door and stepping into the dark room, illuminated only by the dim light filtering in through her windows. He saw a reclining figure on the bed accompanied by the sounds of sniffling. 

Gingerly, he sat down on the edge of her bed next to her and held her hand, rubbing slow circles on her palm. 

"I came as fast I could. What happened?" 

"We broke up," she mumbled, leaning her head back against the headboard. 

"What?" He nearly choked in surprise. 

"We broke up," she repeated mechanically. 

"Why?" 

She chanced a look at him before quickly looking away again. "I don't wanna talk about it now." 

"How are you feeling?" he asked, brushing her hair away from her face. 

_Like a traitor for thinking about you when he said he loved me. _"Like crap." 

"Want a hug?" he offered, smiling slightly. "It'll make you feel better." 

Without a word, she leaned forward and let his arms engulf her, cocooning her in the safety of his arms. She let out a contented sigh. But her lips curled into a frown as feelings of guilt started to build up in her. Dean and her had broken up just over an hour ago and here she was, seeking solace in Tristan's arms. She knew that she should let go, but she didn't want to. 

Tristan quietly whispered comforting words to her, his hands lightly stroking her hair. _'Friends_', he repeated to himself. _That's all we are_.' Still, he found himself holding her tighter. 

He wouldn't spoil it all by saying something stupid like "I love you." 

* * * * * 

A.N: If you couldn't already tell, this picked up with what happened in "Star-Crossed Lovers and Other Strangers". I only saw the episode once, and that was a few months ago so I know that what happened in this chapter is different from what really happened. So, in essence, this is my adaptation of the episode. Thank you to gilmore-girls.net for the transcript. 

So... yes, we say bye bye bye to Dean and bid hello to Troryness. :D 


	14. Run Away (With My Heart)

A.N : Heh... y'all must be really glad to see Dean go! Thank you for the reviews. :D Following what happened in the previous chapter, this is my version of "The Break-Up Part 2". Some of the dialogue is from the episode. Again, thank you to gilmore-girls.net for the transcript. Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter... it didn't come out right when I first wrote it so I mulled over it a lot. So finally... here it is. Enjoy! 

*** * * * *   
Something To Remember   
by inmyeyes   
Part 14 **

(Saturday morning. Gilmore house. Stars Hollow) 

She let out a loud unladylike grunt as an errant ray of sunlight defied her desire to remain in a cocoon of darkness. Throwing an arm up over her eyes, she groaned as the events of the previous night flooded her mind. 

She was wrong; things did not seem better in the morning. 

"Damn the sun," she mumbled, rolling onto her side and pulling her comforter up over her head. In the warm darkness that she found herself in, a new set of memories found their way to the forefront. 

She remembered strong arms around her, the soothing feel of his hands on her back, the calming motion of his fingers stroking her hair, the warm whisper of his words and that familiar smell of him; cologne, soap and something else was inherently him. 

A smile found its way to her lips before she remembered that she really shouldn't be smiling. 

Yet, she couldn't help but think that the break-up had been imminent; things hadn't been the same, at least for her, ever since her accident. She couldn't help but feel a tiny wave of relief that it was over; she wouldn't have to feel that guilt that gnawed on her every time she was with him. The guilt that stemmed from the fact that she had lied to him and that she was thinking of someone else; a someone else that happened to be a guy that he hated. The guilt that grew when she realized that when she finally did say "I love you.", the phrase would probably be followed by Tristan's name. 

Still, it didn't mean that it hadn't hurt her. It was difficult to sit there and see the pain in his eyes and to watch their relationship fall apart. She didn't mean to intentionally hurt him; he wasn't just her boyfriend, he was a good friend too; one that she didn't want to lose. 

She would have to tell him the truth, she realized. She owed him that much. 

* * * * * 

(DuGrey residence. Hartford) 

"He broke up with her." 

On the other end of the line, she snorted. "What? No 'Good morning, Paris. How are you doing...'?" She bit back a laugh when she heard a low growl come from him. 

"Good morning, Paris. How are you doing? He broke up with her." 

Paris settled herself more comfortably on the armchair before saying, "How do you know?" 

Tristan sighed. "She called me yesterday and asked me to come over to her house. They broke up." 

"Who did the breaking-up?" she asked. 

"He did. And I don't know why. She wouldn't tell me." He bit his lip. "I think it might have been because of me." 

Paris made a "tsk" sound. "Don't think so highly of yourself, DuGrey." 

"What do I do?" 

"She's not gonna jump into a relationship with you, Tristan," she remarked dryly. 

"I can hope, right?" 

"You know she won't." 

"Yeah, I know," he mumbled. 

* * * * * 

(Later that morning. Gilmore house. Stars Hollow) 

If she didn't feel guilty enough before, she sure as hell felt guilty now. Dean was being treated like dirt now that the whole town had heard of the break-up and she was being coddled as though she was an innocent victim. 

The thing was... she didn't feel like the innocent victim. She felt more like the villain; a feeling that unsettled her already guilty conscience. 

And Dean... he had looked so absolutely broken. 

She closed her eyes, wishing the billionth time that last night didn't happen. 

From her perch on her bed, she could hear the sound of her mother talking to Babette, trying to get their nosy but well-meaning neighbour to leave. She needed a distraction. Sighing, she reached for her physics book, hoping to study. When she opened the cover, a piece of paper fluttered to the floor. She picked it up and saw that it was the flyer for Madeline's party. 

For a few moments, she fingered the piece of paper in her hands. Then she jumped up and went in search of Lorelai. 

* * * * * 

(Later that evening) 

"Tell me again why I'm going with you," Lane demanded as she waited for Rory to stop fiddling with her hair. "Stop that, your hair's great." 

She took a last long look in the mirror before turning to face her friend. "You're my support system." 

"For what?" 

"Against the evil Chiltonites," she explained. When she saw the disbelieving look in Lane's eyes, she sighed. "Okay, okay... you're a buffer for Tristan & I." 

"So, I'm the United Nations?" Lane said incredulously. 

"Well... something like that." 

"Why do you need a neutral third party anyway?" 

"To stop me from doing anything stupid." 

Lane grinned and pulled on Rory's arm so that they could get going. "Something stupid, as in..." Lane affected a pensive pose. "Maybe making a move on Tristan?" 

Rory rolled her eyes. "No, there will be no move-making involved." 

"Sure, you say that now. What other stupid thing could you do?" 

"I could make a list," Rory offered. 

Lane shrugged. "Well, at least I get to meet this elusive Tristan. I can't believe that you guys have been friends for about two weeks now and I haven't met him! Don't I get best friend privileges?" 

"Yeah well, this is your best friend privilege." 

"It sounds more like best friend duty," Lane disagreed. 

"You don't have to come with me if you don't want to, Lane." 

"You think I'd rather go on that date my mom set up?" Lane shuddered for effect. The two girls shared a look and smiled. After a moment of carefully observing her friend, Lane asked, "Rory are you sure you want to go out tonight?" 

Lane resisted the urge to laugh when she saw that Rory was so frustrated that she almost stomped her foot. " Why does everyone keep asking me that?" 

"Because you just broke up. I mean I'd be perfectly fine to just hang out here and listen to music and talk, not talk, whatever." 

Rory shook her head. "No, I am not hanging out. We are going to this party. It's gonna be great. I don't want to dwell on this. That's final." 

"What really happened, Rory?" Lane asked, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. 

"I really don't wanna talk about it," Rory sighed. 

"Okay, fine," Lane conceded. "But as best friend, know that I'm here if you wanna talk." 

"I know, thanks." Rory smiled gratefully and reached out to hug Lane. 

"C'mon, we have a party to go to!" Lane squealed. 

* * * * * 

(Madeline's house. Hartford) 

"So... this is the fun life I've been missing out on," Rory remarked dryly as her eyes swept through the room full of teenagers. 

"Yeah. Fun fun fun," Paris said in an equally dry tone. "Same exact people we see at school except now we get to see them dance." She paused, wondering if she should ask. She did anyways. "So where is your boyfriend?" 

"We, um, we broke up." 

"Oh. Well at least you had a boyfriend for a while," she said in an off-hand manner. 

"So do you know, um, which way would lead us to some soda?" 

"Keep up because I'm not turning around." She smiled to soften the harsh tone of her voice and gestured for Rory and Lane to follow her. 

"Wow, you didn't exaggerate," Lane whispered as they followed Paris through the mass of people. 

"Paris needs no embellishments," Rory replied, as they finally reached the refreshments area. 

"All this soda is French," Lane said, looking at the bottles of soda that were before them. 

Paris just shrugged. "Madeline's mother has a French fetish. She's obsessed with all things French. French wine, French food, French water, French cellulite products." 

"French kissing," came a husky voice from behind Rory. 

A shiver ran down her spine; she knew who it was. She spun around to face him, trying to hide her smile. "You would know, wouldn't you?" Rory said, rolling her eyes. 

"I'd love to share my wealth of knowledge," he offered, leering at her. He laughed when she smacked his head and mumbled "Perv!" under her breath. Grinning unabashedly, he slung his arm around her shoulders. "What are you doing here?" 

"I'm here to have a good time." When she saw the look in his eyes, she knew that another lewd comment was going to pass through his lips. "Nuh-uh. Don't say it," she warned. 

He feigned innocence. "Say what? I wasn't gonna say anything!" 

Lane had been silently studying the two of them, storing up a vault of information; information that she would ruthlessly hound her best friend with later. "So, you're the infamous Tristan," she finally said, taking advantage of the slight lull in the conversation between the two of them. 

Tristan turned on the full blast of his charm. "Infamous? I didn't know you cared, Mary." 

"Shut up, French Boy," Rory said. "Tristan, this is my best friend, Lane." 

Tristan shook her hand and felt oddly disconcerted because of the knowing look in Lane's eyes. "It's great to finally put a face to the name." 

"Yeah, definitely," Lane agreed, shooting Rory a why-didn't-you-tell-me-he-looked-this-good look. 

Under both Lane's and Paris' gaze, Rory felt an itch of discomfort and suddenly, she became aware of the weight of Tristan's arm resting around her shoulder, holding her close to him. When she noticed Paris glancing at her watch for the fifth time in two minutes, she jumped at the chance to make conversation. "Why do you keep checking your watch?" 

Paris sighed. "My mom says I have to stay until 10:30." 

"Why would she care?" 

Paris's eyes roved over the crowd disinterestedly. "She thinks I'm not enough of a people person. Shocking, huh?" 

Rory laughed. "I'm floored." 

"Hey, dance with me?" Tristan asked. 

"You know I don't dance," Rory answered. 

"Yeah, well... I managed to change your mind the last time," he pointed out. Seconds later, he mentally bashed his head against the wall for bringing up "the weekend" as he now termed that time with Rory. 

Rory knew that her cheeks were scarlet and was hoping that the dim lights would hide them. "That was different," she argued. 

"C'mon... please?" he pleaded. 

'_Don't do it_!' The voice in her head called out, warning her that being that close to him was dangerous and way too tempting. Even now, when they were standing side by side, the warmth of his body and the smell of his cologne lured her in. How would she be able to resist him if she was dancing with him? Not heeding any of the loud, persistent voices in her head, she gave in. "Okay." 

* * * * * 

The two girls stood there at the edge of the dance floor, their eyes trained on the couple not too far way from them who were dancing closely together. 

"Please tell me that you see it," Paris said. 

Lane nodded in agreement. "I see it. It's way too obvious. It's like a neon, flashing billboard." 

"They think they're fooling everyone. _He_ thinks he's fooling everyone." 

They watched as the boy in question pulled the girl closer in his arms, not encountering any resistance from the girl. 

"They're just fooling themselves," Lane remarked. 

Silence ensued at Paris and Lane stood companionably together, watching their friends' miserable efforts at denial. 

* * * * * 

"You were supposed to stop me from doing something stupid!" Rory said accusingly, after she managed to disentangle herself from Tristan's arms after a few dances. 

"I didn't know dancing was on your list of stupid things not to do," Lane protested. "It's a perfectly non-stupid thing to do. Especially at a party." 

"Well, this is coming from the girl who was dancing with that boy. Who was he?" 

"His name is Henry," Lane sighed dreamily. 

"I'm with Lane. Dancing is a non-stupid thing to do at a party," Paris piped up. "And hey, you should take my word for it. I didn't dance with anyone so my perspective isn't tarnished." 

Rory playfully glared at Paris. "Not helping, Paris." 

Paris shrugged, her lips etched in a wry smile. "I live to serve." 

"Okay, fine. Dancing is a non-stupid thing to do at a party. But," Rory paused, "dancing with Tristan is definitely on my list of stupid things not to do." 

"Well, technically, anything to do with Tristan is on your not-to-do list," Lane said pointedly. 

Rory sighed. "Not helping, Lane." Her eyes travelled between the two girls, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Are you two in cahoots or something?" 

Paris let out a "Pfffft". "Us? In cahoots?" 

"Tell me again why anything Tristan-related is on your not-to-do list," Lane said, diverting focus back to the topic at hand. 

"Argh!" 

* * * * * 

The voice coming from behind him startled him out of his thoughts. "The dancing was good, wasn't it?" 

Tristan turned his head and saw Paris smiling at him. He motioned for her to sit next to him on the empty couch. "Yeah... I enjoyed it too much." 

Paris smirked. "I could tell." 

"It's already 10.45." 

Paris shrugged, leaning back against the cushions. "Wow, you can read a clock," she muttered sarcastically. 

"I thought you wanted to leave at 10.30," he reminded her. 

She shrugged again, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I changed my mind." 

"Where is she?" 

She took the seemingly random question in stride; she had actually anticipated it, knowing that he was bound to ask about her. "Sitting with Lane and talking." 

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his fingers covering his face. "What am I gonna do Paris?" 

"I don't know, Tristan." 

His eyes met hers and Paris' heart almost broke at the hopeful look in his blue gaze. "Do you think she would-" 

"I don't know," she repeated. 

"Why can't it just be simple?" he groaned. 

"That wouldn't be much fun, would it?" 

"Sadist," he muttered. 

"Loser," Paris retorted. 

Tristan chuckled, but he couldn't hide the desolate look in his eyes. 

* * * * * 

"You aren't still mad at me for not stopping you from dancing with Tristan, are you?" Lane asked cautiously after a few minutes of silence between the two friends. 

Rory smiled. "No, I wasn't mad at you. I was just frustrated with myself and the damn voices in my head." 

"The voices in your head?" 

Rory nodded. "They're evil. They make me do things that I shouldn't do." 

Lane laughed. "They're telling you to throw caution to the wind and go after Tristan?" 

"Something like that." 

"What's the problem with that?" Lane inquired. "I can't see any obstacles in your way." 

"My guilty conscience is in the way," Rory answered. Feeling a little uncertain, she added, "I think I'm gonna tell Dean the truth about what happened that weekend." 

"Why? It wouldn't solve anything. It'll just hurt him even more." 

"I know," Rory said, her voice tingled with sadness. "But I feel that he at least deserves to know the truth. I have to tell him... even if it's only for the sake of my peace of mind." Deciding that she needed to lighten the atmosphere a little, she switched topics. "So tell me about Henry." 

Lane realized what Rory was doing but decided to give her friend a break. So she smiled brightly as she started sharing details about Henry. 

* * * * * 

It was a party and Tristan DuGrey was sitting by himself in the piano room. He, who was usually the life of the party, was seeking isolation. God, what had happened to him? If only his friends could see him now... 

Out of their own violation, his fingers started playing a simple melody. The feel of the piano keys beneath his fingers was almost comforting, the soft music wafting through the room. 

His fingers stilled as his mind suddenly flooded with the memory of Rory dancing in his arms. 

_"Dancing with me isn't that bad, is it?" he said, his voice teasing as he slowly pulled her into his arms. He silently thanked whoever it was who was in the charge of the music for playing the slow song. _

"No, it isn't that bad," she said, smiling softly. The feel of his fingers lightly stroking her back was distracting her. Taking a deep breath, she decided to focus on the music that blaring through the speakers. Moments later, she regretted playing attention to the song. "Kissing You" wasn't exactly the best song to listen to while dancing in Tristan's arms. Shaking her head slightly, she silently told her mind not to venture anywhere near the memories of kissing Tristan. 

"So... how are you holding up?" 

Rory groaned, burying her head in his shoulder. "Don't ask that question. Anything but that question. I'm sick of it." 

"Anything?" he said, grinning widely. 

Rory gave him a dirty look. "I'm feeling as good as I can be feeling," she said vaguely. 

"On a scale of 1-10, where would you be?" 

"Maybe somewhere near -235," Rory answered. 

"That bad, huh?" he said, sympathetic. 

"Worse." She tried not to smile when she felt him pull her closer. "I just try not to think about it." 

"Avoidance is your medicine of choice, I see." 

Rory groaned. "I just feel horrible about it, Tristan." 

"Why? He's the one who broke up with you." When she didn't say anything, he asked, "He was the one who broke up with you, right?" 

"It's a lot more complicated than that." 

"Rory-" 

She looked up at him, her eyes beseeching. "Please... can we not talk about that? Can we just dance?" 

He found that he couldn't say no. "Okay." So, he wrapped his arms tighter around her and just enjoyed having her so close. 

"I've been looking for you." Rory gave a tentative smile when she saw the pensive look in his eyes. She didn't why she had gone to look for him; she knew she _shouldn'_t because her nerves were still recovering from the currents that ran through her when they had danced. Them being alone in a room together was a _bad_ idea; this fact was reiterated to her when out of nowhere, her thoughts shifted to kissing him. She fervently prayed that he didn't notice the blush that was tainting her cheeks. 

Tristan looked up and met the same blue eyes that he had been envisioning in his mind. Assailed with nerves, he jerked his eyes away and started tinkering with the piano keys again. "Well... you found me." Before he knew what he was doing, he was playing "Anytime". 

She instantly recognized the song; it struck her now how this situation mirrored that day in her grandparents' house. "What aren't you out there?" 

Even though he knew the song by heart, he pretended to be absorbed with trying to play the song. "Just felt like being alone." He kept his eyes averted from her but he knew that she was getting closer; the perfume that he had come to associate with her titillated his senses and seconds later, he felt her arm brush against his. Trying to get his heart to slow down, he kept his eyes on the black and white keys before him. 

"Tristan..." she began, not exactly sure what she was doing there and what she was saying. '_Bad idea, Rory. Really bad idea. Remember #5 on your list of things not to do? Don't be too close to Tristan. Stay away from Tristan._' 

He finally looked at her and immediately, he knew it was a mistake. It was a mistake because it didn't do anything to help curb his urge to kiss her. In fact, it seemed that the urge had just gotten worse. '_Stupid, stupid, stupid_!' 

It felt like their gazes had stayed locked forever and Rory knew that she had to say something or do something before the seemingly inevitable happened. She knew her smile was shaky. "Is this song the only one you can play?" she asked, teasingly. 

Her words broke through the fog his mind was trapped in; his chuckle was one of relief. "Brian McKnight not good enough for you, Miss Gilmore?" He gently nudged her. "Want me to play some Bach?" 

Rory stuck her nose in the air and gave a pretentious huff. "Absolutely not. I'd like to hear some Mozart, thank you." 

"I don't take requests," Tristan said just as huffily. 

Without thinking, Rory slid closer to him on the bench and she started to play the only song that she knew. 

He snorted, easily recognizing what she was playing. "Brian McKnight isn't good enough but Richard Marx is?" he asked, disbelieving 

"Hey," Rory exclaimed, her tone defensive. "He's a great songwriter." 

"So is Brian McKnight," he countered. Then he quickly changed the topic, knowing that the dispute could get out of hand. "I didn't know that you play." 

She arched her brow in reply, her smile was impish. "There's a lot of things you don't know about me." 

"I know," was his simple answer. "And I'm making it my mission to know it all." 

Rory had to remind herself to breathe when he slid even closer to her and rested his hand lightly on her hip, his touch searing her skin. "Oh really?" 

Praying that he wasn't making a wrong move, he leaned his head closer to hers, so close that he could smell her fruity shampoo. "Yeah, it's my new goal in life." He paused, his lips almost on hers, giving her the chance to pull away if she wanted to. But she just stayed as she was, her soft lips curling in a hint of a smile. Swallowing down his nervousness, he breached that last inch between them and caught her lips in a slow kiss. 

Anticipation had her stomach churning when he had stopped and she suddenly feared that he had changed his mind, feared that he didn't want to kiss her as much she wanted him too. She saw a glimpse of anxiety in his eyes and recognized a fear that matched her own. And after that, she didn't see anymore as her lids fluttered shut at the long-awaited contact of his lips on hers. 

God, he had missed the way kissing her made him feel. His blood was running through his veins at the speed of light, his heart pounding, and the adrenaline that was fueling him and making him feel so alive. He was free-falling and it felt that like there was no end in sight. He wouldn't minded if this delicious feeling went on and on and on... 

The moment the kiss ignited, her heart had taken control, telling her to stay where she was and to soak in the emotions that were bubbling in her. She couldn't deny that she had been waiting for this to happen, hoping that this would eventually happen. 

Then, those dreaded voices in her head decided to speak up and they had turned against her; reminding her that it was only _yesterday_ that her relationship with Dean had ended, reminding her of those awful feelings of guilt that had been tormenting her all day, reminding her of the look of betrayal in Dean's eyes... 

Stray tears escaped through her closed eyes and although she didn't want to, oh God... she _really_ didn't want to, she pulled away. 

The moment her lips left his, his eyes snapped open in panic. "I'm sorry," were his words that were tinged with worry. "What did I do? Did I bite your lip or something?" 

She wanted so badly to reach out and erase the desperation in his eyes. She shook her head vehemently, hoping that he would understand. "No, it's not you," she said hurriedly, not aware of the tears that were streaking down her cheeks. "It's just - I have to go." Without a backwards glance, she ran out of there. 

* * * * * 

"Rory? Is something wrong?" 

Rory spun around at the question, her vision slightly blurred due to her tears. She managed a small smile and tried to lie convincingly, "I'm fine." 

Paris cast her a dubious look, obviously not believing her. "Rory-" 

Damnit, she had to get out of here. "Have you seen Lane?" she asked, cutting of Paris' words. 

Paris pointed to a spot a few feet behind her. "Last time I saw her, she was dancing with Henry." 

"Thanks." 

As Rory pushed past her, Paris decided to look for the one person who probably knew what was wrong. 

* * * * * 

"We have to go." 

Lane turned at the sound of Rory's frantic voice and saw the distressed look on her friend's face. "Rory are you okay?" Not waiting for a reply, she turned back to Henry as Rory slowly pulled her away. "I have to go." 

"Well wait, can I get your number?" he called out. 

She made a quick decision and grinned. "Last name's Kim and we're the only ones in Stars Hollow." As she lost sight of him in the sea of people, she muttered, "I can't believe I just came my number to a potential Korean doctor." 

* * * * * 

A.N: You're probably thinking "Geez... are they _ever_ gonna get together?"  
All in good time, I say. :)  



	15. What You Don't Know (Is How Much I Care)

A.N. : Okay... just to say a few things: yes, the last two chapters have been very much similar to what happened in the episodes; I wanted it that way because I feel that those two episodes were pretty important ones for the R/D/T dynamic on the show and I wanted to include it in my story. I put a slight Trory twist in them to fit what has happened in my story and make it more in-tune with my plot. But that's it; I'm veering off what happened in the show and going off on my own plot. I hope that answers any questions/concerns that you guys had. Also, I'd like to apologize for taking so long with this chapter. I had this pesky thing called writers' block. Bleah. 

****

* * * * *   
Something To Remember   
by inmyeyes  
Part 15  


She leaned against the door frame, arms across her chest as she watched him. His head was bowed down, eyes on the piano keys even though she very well knew that he knew the song by heart. His back was hunched, the stance of a defeated warrior. Inwardly, she sighed, cursing Rory Gilmore for making him this way. He, of all people, should not be like that; he, the exalted Tristan DuGrey, should be out in the main room, laughing, flirting and being his usual charming self. 

As the sad melody of the song lingered in the air, Paris lifted her hands and slowly clapped. The sound shocked him, that much Paris could see. She also saw how he didn't bother to conceal the hurt and confused expression on his face. '_Damn you, Rory,_' she silently seethed. 

"Paris," he said, softly, his smile not reaching his eyes. But his fingers kept on playing. 

"Why in heaven's name are you playing Richard Marx?" 

The question jarred him and his fingers fumbled, causing a loud note to ring in the small room. She saw him take a shaky breath before he started to play again; to Paris' trained ears, his playing of Bach was flawless but her heart noticed the clinical precision with which he hit the keys. 

"What did you do, DuGrey?" she asked, walking over to take a seat next to him. 

"I didn't do anything," he responded, keeping his eyes away from hers. 

"So that must mean that Rory's tears didn't mean anything," she said casually, noticing his slight flinch at her words. "Yup, she must have been upset over nothing." 

His fingers stilled. "Stop it, Paris," he said, his voice a low growl. 

"Okay, fine," she acquiesced. She switched topics, "Are you okay?" 

"It's nothing," he said, dismissively. 

Paris nodded sagely. "Wow, it must have been a good deal of nothing that happened in here." 

"Paris," he warned. 

"Tristan," she said, copying his tone of voice. In the next moment, a cacophony of discordant sounds filled the room as Tristan banged his fingers against the keys in frustration. 

"I kissed her, okay! Is that what you want to hear?" he blurted. 

Paris' smile was wry. "No, it's actually not what I want to hear. But it's good for you to say it." 

"Don't act like as though you're my therapist, Paris." 

"Hardly," Paris scoffed. "I'm worse... I'm your friend." 

Just as quickly as it came, his anger melted away. "What the hell did I just do?" he moaned. 

"You kissed the girl whom you're in love with." 

"At the wrong time, wrong place." 

"I don't know about the place, but it was the wrong time," Paris agreed. "Look, Tristan... it's not the end of the world." 

"It _is_," he protested. "Didn't you see her running out of here, crying? She was _crying_, for goodness' sake!" Hissing in frustration, he quickly ran his fingers through his hair, resisting the urge to tug at his hair. 

"And girls _never_ cry after kissing you, right?" 

Tristan turned his head and tossed her a dirty look. "Don't be snide, Paris. It's unbecoming." 

In response, Paris rolled her eyes. "Don't be _pathetic_, Tristan. It's unattractive." 

He shook his head, his smile mirthless. "I'm going home, I'll see you on Monday," he said as he got up. 

She watched him walk across the room and only called out his name when he neared the door. He stopped, but didn't turn to face her. "Keep your chin up," were her parting words. 

He turned slightly and tried to smile. Then he was gone. 

* * * * * 

(Later that night. Gilmore house. Stars Hollow) 

"Are you just gonna sit there?" Lorelai waited for a response but got none; all that came out was a low sigh. Shaking her head, she inched closer to her daughter and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Rory... you've been in this slump ever since you broke up with Dean. Tell me what's wrong." 

"That's the problem, mom! There was nothing wrong about breaking-up with Dean!" Lorelai watched Rory with wide eyes, somewhat surprised by the outburst. She kept silent, knowing that Rory had more to say. 

Rory jumped up from her spot on the couch, suddenly feeling the need to move. She started pacing back and forth, with Lorelai's eyes on her. "I knew the break-up was coming... I knew that it would end sooner or later, and I was wondering how it would happen." She broke off, her hands clenched as she remembered that night. "I didn't want to hurt him, mom," she finally said, her voice weak. 

Lorelai reached out, grabbing Rory's hands and pulling her back onto the couch. Rory gingerly took a seat, but kept her eyes away from her mother's. "Rory," Lorelai began, her hands cupping Rory's face and forcing their eyes to meet. She wanted to cry at the heart-broken expression she saw. "What happened... happened. You can't change it and I'm sure it wasn't all your fault, honey." 

Rory's eyes brimmed with tears and she blinked profusely, trying to get rid of them. "It was my fault, mom. I could have changed it. It shouldn't have happened the way it did." 

"What hap-" 

"He told me he loved me and I couldn't say it back, mom." The floodgate of emotions broke and the tears fell unmercifully. "I couldn't say it, mom... and the worst part was," she closed her eyes and took a halting breath. "The worst part was that I was thinking of Tristan." 

"Oh, honey..." Lorelai enfolded Rory in her arms, hoping to ease some of the pain that she was clearly feeling. "Maybe it was better than you didn't just say those words, Rory," she said softly, her hands stroking Rory's back. "It would have been wrong to lead him on that way." 

Rory pulled away from her mother and hastily ran the back of her hand across her cheeks. "I did care for Dean." 

"I know you did. But "I love you" are weighty words to just throw around, Rory." 

"Then why the hell did I think of Tristan when those words came to mind?" 

Lorelai was silent for a moment. "I don't know what's going on with you and Tristan." 

Rory sighed. She grabbed a nearby cushion and hugged it to her chest. "We kissed," she said simply. 

"I know you guys kissed. You told me-" 

Rory shook her head, smiling slightly. "No, mom... we kissed _tonight_." 

"Oh." 

"And I ran out of the room, crying." 

"Not good." 

Rory laughed, but the sound seemed hollow. "I know." She paused then spoke again, "What am I doing?" 

"You're just trying to figure out what you're feeling," Lorelai answered, reassuringly. 

She smiled at her mother's attempt to make her feel better. "Mom, from the way I've been acting... it seems like I already know what I'm feeling." 

* * * * * 

(The next day. Luke's. Stars Hollow) 

"So what are you gonna do?" 

Rory shook her head and laughed lightly. "Why does it seem like you're always asking me that?" 

Lane shrugged. "I wanna know what you're gonna do. Plus, part of my best friend duty is to advise you. Without me, you might go do something stupid." 

"Believe me, Lane. I've done my share of stupid things. I've reached my quota... so that means I won't do anything stupid until next week." 

"And next week is tomorrow," Lane pointed out. 

"Drats. Okay then, advise me, oh best friend of mine." 

"I'm gonna need to hear your plans before I can advise." 

Rory sighed and mindlessly fingered the strands of her hair. "I don't know. I should talk to him, I guess." 

"You don't sound very convinced or enthusiastic," Lane commented. 

"That's because I don't know what to say!" Rory exclaimed, wringing her hands. "You know how bad I am when it comes to guys." 

Lane rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Yeah... you're so bad that at one point of time, you had two guys after you. You must be completely hopeless." 

"Not funny, Lane," Rory said, her face serious. "It's too complicated now." 

"Is not," Lane argued. "You and Dean are no more. You like Tristan. Tristan likes you. There is no complication." 

"He's my friend, Lane." 

"There is no rule that says that you can't fall in love with a friend," Lane said. "I mean... c'mon, Joey fell in love with Dawson." 

Rory snorted. "Yeah, a lot of good that did her." 

Lane went on, undeterred. "And later, she fell in love with Pacey, who was a friend." 

"Yeah, look how that worked out." 

Lane ignore whatever rambling that Rory was doing. "You know, come to think of it... you and Tristan are very much like Pacey and Joey." 

Rory groaned and covered her face with her hands. "I don't want to know, Lane. I just don't want to." 

"And that would make Dean, Dawson." 

Rory burst out laughing. "No way. Dean is in no way Dawson-like. At all." She pretended to scrutinize Lane. "Are you feeling okay? Did you eat your mom's tofu again? You know how it disagrees with you." 

Lane gave a mock-glare. "I would never, ever eat that tofu. Ever. Don't say such things." 

Rory shrugged. "Well, you were spouting Dawson's Creek nonsense. What was I supposed to think?" 

"You're supposed to think-" Lane trailed off, her eyes on someone walking along the sidewalk. "Oh, here comes "Dawson" now." 

Rory turned around in her seat and peered out the window, seeing Dean's familiar form. She jumped up. "Wait here, I need to talk to him." 

"Are you sure-" Lane watched as Rory practically ran out the diner. "that's a good idea?" 

The sound of the bell chiming as the door shut behind Rory was all the answer she got. 

* * * * * 

"Dean!" 

She stood a few metres behind him and saw him stop when she called out his name. When he didn't turn around, she jogged over to where he was. "Um... hi." All she got in return was a blank, neutral look. "Dean, I think we should talk." 

He shook his head, his floppy hair falling into his eyes a little. "There's nothing to talk about," he replied, his voice tight. 

"I have a few things I need to tell you," she insisted, laying a hand on his arm. She hid the hurt that filled her when he flinched at her touch. "Please." 

Dean sighed, meeting her eyes briefly. "Not now, Rory. I can't do this now." 

She realized then how much she had hurt him and that knowledge made her heart clench. "Okay," she said weakly. She just stood there as he walked away. 

* * * * * 

(DuGrey residence. Hartford) 

The loud ringing did nothing to alleviate the pounding in his head. With his head still buried under his comforter, his hand reached out and blindly searched for the object that emitted that offending sound. When he still couldn't locate it after a few seconds, he let out a loud groan and pulled the comforter down. The bright sunlight drifting in through the open window nearly blinded him, causing him to squint. Out of the corner of his eye, he spied the telephone, its stark white a contrast to his dark sheets. Half-heartedly, he leaned over to reach for it, groaning again when his muscles stretched. 

"This better be good," Tristan mumbled into the receiver as he lay back down on his bed and threw the covers over himself; retreating into darkness. 

"Rise and shine, sweetheart," came the faux-cheerful voice on the other end. 

Tristan just grunted and hung up. Barely three seconds later, the loud ringing started again. "What do you want, Paris?" 

"Is that the way to greet a friend?" she huffed. 

He rolled her eyes. "Good morning, Paris," he said, in a tone that reeked of practised politeness. "How are you doing?" Then he paused and let his irritation shine through. "What you do you want, Paris?" 

"Wow, I've taught you well," she remarked, grinning. Her tone turned serious. "How are you feeling?" 

"You called me at the crack of dawn to ask me that?" 

"It's hardly the crack of dawn, Tristan," she replied dryly. "It's already well after noon." 

" 'It's already well after noon.' Stop that. You sound like my mother." 

Paris tsked. "Well, it's better than sounding like my mother." 

"Well, I feel like crap, Paris. Thanks for waking me up." 

"You're welcome." 

He sighed. "Paris, I'm not in the mood right now. I'll talk to you later." He hung up before she could say anything. 

He closed his eyes and willed for sleep to overtake him again. 

Two minutes later, he reluctantly headed for the shower. 

* * * * * 

(Later that afternoon) 

He had been reading- well, actually, he had been _trying_ to read and _trying_ to stop replaying the kiss in his mind- when the phone rang. Grateful for the diversion, he picked up the phone. 

"What now, Paris?" he asked distractedly, fiddling with the controls of his stereo. 

"Um... hi Tristan," came the hesitant voice. 

"Rory?" was his surprised reply. He stopped playing around with the stereo and sat down at the edge of his bed, holding his breath. 

She cleared her throat. "Yeah. I was wondering if..." she trailed off, and there was a short silence before she spoke again. "Could you come over? I think we should talk." 

His eyes widened. "Talk? You want to talk?" 

"Yeah." 

Before he could think it over, he answered, "Okay." 

? * * * * * 

(A little later. Stars Hollow) 

Rory nervously twiddled her thumbs as she sat on the steps of the gazebo. Her right leg was bouncing up and down as her eyes scanned the area. 

It had taken her ten minutes of staring at the phone and another four minutes of getting the nerve to dial all the numbers without hanging up. Then her heart had started pounding, the action intensifying when his smooth voice came over the line. She had somehow managed to stutter through her request and breathed a sigh of relief at his "okay". 

And now, after four pep talks, seven cups of coffee and almost half an hour later, she was waiting for him at the gazebo. Mentally, she ran over the speech that she had prepared, knowing that the words would probably fly out of her mind and leave her speechless. 

When she saw his car being parked in front of Luke's, she took one final deep breath and forced her clenched hands apart. As she watched his lanky figure walking towards her, she took in his appearance; the confident gait, the hands in his pockets, the small grin on his lips. When he stopped in front of her, his smile turned tentative. 

"Hey," she said, smiling shyly. 

"Hey." He sat down on the step next to her. He waited for her to say something and when she didn't, he asked, "So what did you want to talk about?" 

She looked down at her feet. "You know what." 

He bit back a sigh, not really wanting to have this talk. Somehow he knew that the talk wouldn't go his way. "Yeah, I know," he mumbled. "So..." 

She tried to force the words out her mouth but they wouldn't come. Instead, out came, "It meant nothing, right?" 

The moment the words left her mouth, she wanted to bash her head against something. God, of all the things to say! That wasn't what she meant to say; in fact she wanted to say the opposite. _Oh God_... she kept her head down, not wanting to see his reaction, not wanting to see the relieved expression on his face. But had she looked, she would have immediately taken back her words. 

_It meant nothing?_ The words pierced him, breaking through the armour that he had put up whenever he was around her. He wanted to close his eyes against the pain. '_Pull yourself together._' He did his best to sound unaffected, "Yeah... it meant nothing." He made sure that he didn't look at her, knowing that he would crumble and admit the truth to her if he did. 

"Yeah," she echoed numbly. This was going wrong, this was completely different from what she had imagined it to be. She had to salvage this somehow but instead she said, "We're friends, right?" 

Tristan tried not to wince at that word that haunted him and separated the two of them. "Of course, we're friends." _It's just that I want more._

"Okay," she said. "Good." She didn't know what else she could say. And even if she did say something, she'd probably make the situation even worse that it already was. 

The two of them just sat there in an awkward silence, both battling with inner frustration yet trying not to show it. 

Finally, Tristan asked, "So... is that all?" 

She bit her lip, the motion involuntarily drawing his attention. He tore his gaze away and waited for her reply. "Yeah... I guess." 

He nodded briskly. "Okay. Good." He stood up and smiled, but his eyes didn't meet hers. "So...I'll see you in school." 

She just sat there... unable to process what had happened, unwilling to believe that she had ruined things so much. When he was about twenty feet away from her, she stood up and called out his name. 

He spun around but didn't get closer to her. "Yeah?" He grimaced at the hint of hope in his voice. 

Again, she chickened out at the last minute. "Um... thanks for coming," was the lame sentence that came out. 

The shake of his head was imperceptible. He couldn't believe that he had allowed himself to think that maybe she... he shook his head again, trying to get rid of those hopeful, optimistic thoughts. "No problem," he answered before turning on his heel and walked on. 

* * * * * 

(Luke's) 

"What's the emergency?" 

Rory spun around on the stool and frowned. "I screwed things up. Majorly." 

Lane hopped on the stool next to her friend. "What happened to 'I reached my quota. No more stupid things until tomorrow.'?" 

Rory sighed heavily and leaned her head against the formica top of the counter. "It bit me in the ass." 

Lane reached for the cup near Rory's head and took a sip of the coffee. "What did you do?" 

"Itoldhimitmeantnothing," she mumbled, her hair covering half her face. 

"What?" 

Rory sat up again. "I told him it meant nothing," she repeated. At that, Lane gave her a hard smack on her shoulder. "Oww! What was that for?" 

"That was for being stupid," Lane clarified. "Why did you do that? After all that gushing you did just now, which may I remind you was only about 4 hours ago, I thought you'd be ready to jump his bones." 

"I know," Rory said miserably. "But somehow, all that just stumbled out and I couldn't take it back. 

"Why not?" Lane demanded. "You could have just said, 'Tristan, I didn't mean what I said. What I really meant to say was that I love kissing you.' Would that have been so hard?" 

"Lane!" 

Lane smirked. "Don't look so outraged. You do love kissing him!" 

Rory groaned and buried her face in her hands. "I don't have to tell him that." 

"Nope, instead you tell him that it meant nothing." 

Rory gave her a long look. "I hate your sarcasm." 

Lane shrugged and just grinned. "You can dish it, but you can't deal with it. You just hate it 'cos I'm right." 

The thud, caused by Rory's hard head hitting the counter, signified Rory's agreement. 

* * * * * 

(Later that night. Kim house. Stars Hollow) 

"She's an idiot." 

Lane nodded her agreement, even though she knew that Paris couldn't see her. "They're _both_ idiots." 

"You do realize that Rory's gonna have to make the first move, right? I don't think Tristan will want to put himself on the line like that again." 

Lane sighed and twirled the cord of the telephone around her fingers. "Yeah... but after what happened today, I wouldn't trust her with it. She's gonna need reinforcements." 

"Reinforcements?" 

"Yup. That's where you and I come in." 

"And what exactly are we gonna do?" Paris asked, her interest peaked. 

"That's gonna depend on Rory." 

Paris laughed a little. "So, we should just let them be idiots for a little while longer?" 

"Definitely. At least... until one of them crumbles." 

"What makes you think Rory will be the first?" 

"Tristan's a pro at hiding his feelings. He can do it for a little while more. Rory... well, she's an open book sometimes." 

"True." 

"So, we'll just-" The sound of approaching footsteps alerted Lane. "Crap, I think my mom's coming. I'll talk to you again later." 

Quickly hanging up, Lane stuffed the telephone underneath her pillow and feigned interest in her Biology textbook. Barely five seconds later, her mother entered the room. 

Ten minutes later, she called Paris back and resumed their plotting. 

* * * * * 


	16. If You're Gonna Love Somebody...

A.N: This chapter ran away from me and turned out to be a lot longer than I expected so I've split it into two. Don't worry, both parts are up; I've been evil enough to string y'all along for 15 chapters. Heh. So... I hope you enjoy this. :D 

**

* * * * *   
Something To Remember   
by inmyeyes   
Part 16   
  
  


**

(Monday morning. Chilton) 

Paris ignored the presence next to her and continued shovelling books into her locker. She heard a low sigh and bowed her head, trying to hide the amused smile that curled her lips. "What do you want, Tristan?" 

"Is that the way you greet a friend?" Tristan said, mockingly, throwing her words back at her. He crossed his arms and grinned smugly. 

Paris closed her locker and turned to him, imitating his smugness. "I'm not the one who's asking for help," she pointed out. 

"What makes you think I'm asking for help?" he asked, his tone defiant. 

Paris shook her head and started walking, Tristan stepping in next to her. "Why else would you be here?" 

He shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Can't I say hello to a friend?" 

"No, usually it's the friend who says hello to you, Mr I-Own-Chilton." 

He shrugged again, not offering any protest. "Well, my days of asking for your help are over," he announced in a falsely cheerful voice, draping his arm around Paris' shoulder. "The wagon has moved on." 

Paris gave him a disbelieving look as she took his arm off her shoulder. "Yeah right, and I'll be Homecoming Queen." 

"It could happen," he argued. 

Paris gave him a look that clearly said "Get real." She opened her mouth to say something when she noticed Rory coming their way. "Hey Rory," she called out, gauging Tristan's reaction out of the corner of her eye. She tried not to smirk when she saw him take a deep breath. 

Rory closed the remaining distance between them, slightly suspicious at Paris' friendliness but deciding to just go with it. "Hi Paris." Her smile broadened slightly when her eyes came to rest on the boy next to her. "Hi Tristan." 

The hurt he had felt came flooding back at the smile she gave him and for a second, his smile faltered but then their eyes met and out of their own volition, his lips curled into a grin. "Hey." 

Paris wished that she could just knock them on their heads with something hard -maybe a book... her thick Economics book- and knock some sense into the both of them. She took in the way they looked at each other and a tiny wistful part of her wished that someone would look at her that way. Yet as quickly as the feeling came, she shook it away. 

She glanced at her watch and gasped. "I have to go. I'll see you guys later," she said hurriedly. Without waiting for either of them to protest, she took off, only to situate herself at the end of the hallway amidst the crush of people so that she could discreetly watch them. _'Part 1 of the plan is in action_,' she silently announced, restraining her victorious smile. 

* * * * * 

She hated the awkwardness; sure, things did tend to get a little weird between them before but this was downright uncomfortable. Uncomfortable and painful because she wanted to look him in the eye but she couldn't; not after all the words that had come out of her mouth yesterday. Exasperated, she ran a hand through her hair and sighed. 

"Hey," he reached out, lightly touching her shoulder. The touch made her tilt her head up, their eyes meeting. Rory struggled to hide the blush that coloured her cheeks. "Are you all right?" 

His concern made her smile. "Just feeling a little down, that's all," she answered honestly. 

Tristan smiled weakly. "I know." 

_He knew?_ Her eyes widened in alarm. "You know?" 

He shot her a perplexed look. "I know what you mean; I'm not feeling too good either." He saw relief wash over her face and wondered what was going through her mind. "Why? What did you think I mean?" 

She shook her head and let out a short laugh. "Nothing, I'm just reading way too much into things. Not enough coffee today," she made excuses. He didn't look as though he was buying her excuses so when he finally grinned broadly, she heaved a silent sigh of relief. 

"Not enough coffee? You had two cups instead of the usual four?" he teased, moving slightly to lean against the row of lockers between him. He crossed his arms and smirked. 

Rory playfully jabbed his shoulder. "Hey, I'll have you know that the usual is not four." Her grin widened. "It's _five_. Get it right." 

Tristan pretended to be affronted. "Oh, I beg your pardon, Princess Rory." 

Rory tilted her head up and levelled him with a mock-condescending look. "Get on your knees and beg." 

His eyes filled with amusement and he couldn't help leering at her. But before he could say anything, and Rory knew exactly what kind of comment was going to be said, the bell rang. He shrugged, his eyes twinkling in merriment. "Saved by the bell." 

* * * * * 

(Third period) 

As Paris entered the classroom behind Rory, her eyes caught the wistful look in Tristan's eyes as he watched her. She saw the tiny smile that was curled his lips, giving away his feelings for her. She also noticed the way Rory's eyes had immediately gone to him the moment she came into the room. 

She wanted to laugh at how obvious they were both and how neither realized the feelings were reciprocated. 

As she passed by Tristan on her way to her desk, she mumbled, loud enough for him to hear, "The wagon _hasn't_ moved on." 

* * * * * 

(Lunch time) 

The scrape of the chair on the floor distracted Rory from her book. Marking down her place, she looked up and gave a small smile at the sight of Paris sitting opposite her. 

"Why don't you just tell him?" 

Rory's smile vanished as she contemplated what Paris had asked. Closing the book and setting it on the table, she met Paris' gaze squarely. "Why is it that you always seem to start a conversation with an ambiguous question?" 

Paris shrugged but wasn't deterred. "C'mon Rory... don't play the fool. I've noticed that you like him. It's difficult not to notice it." 

Rory's brows were furrowed in confusion. "Still not following." 

"Do I need to spell it out for you?" Paris sighed. 

"Well, looks like it." She thought she heard Paris muttering something that sounded suspiciously like "Idiot" but it was too inaudible and she couldn't be sure. . 

"You and Tristan." 

Rory groaned. "There's a me. There's a Tristan. _But_," she stressed the word, "there's no me and Tristan. Nada. Zilch. Not happening." 

"Do you have to be so difficult?" 

Rory shrugged. "Why don't you tell me? You've got being difficult down to an art form." 

Her words sailed right past Paris who was too intent on squeezing the truth out of her. "Whatever it is, you _want_ a you and Tristan, right?" 

Rory's eyes narrowed. "Paris, what is this about?" 

'_Forget the plan._' She had a feeling that underhand tactics would backfire when it came to those two; there's nothing better than the straightforward approach. "_This_ is about how completely and utterly _stupid_ you and Tristan are being. It's obvious that you two like each other but you're both too stubborn, or maybe too proud, or hell maybe even _insecure_, to say anything. So I'm here to move things along." 

It was easier to pretend that she didn't know what was going. "What are you talking about?" 

Paris almost growled in frustration. She stood up and held her hands up in surrender. "Okay fine... pretend not to know what's going on. When you need help to win him over, and I know that you're gonna want him and I know you're gonna need help, look me up." 

Rory watched Paris' departing figure and tried to push aside her words. Sighing, she picked up her book and resumed reading. 

* * * * * 

(The next day. Late afternoon. Luke's. Stars Hollow) 

She nervously tore up the sugar wrapper into tiny pieces, her eyes darting to the door every few seconds. '_You have to do this._' she told herself every few minutes, when the urge to bolt arose. Sighing, she took a long gulp of coffee, nearly choking when she finally saw him enter the diner. As she reached for a napkin, she inhaled deeply in an effort to calm her racing heart. 

"Hey." 

She smiled, hoping that it didn't look too strained. "Hey, thanks for coming." She paused before blurting, "I didn't think you would." 

Dean gave her a tentative smile in return as he wearily raked a hand through his hair. "I almost didn't," he confessed. "But I knew that we should talk. So I came." 

"Well... thanks." 

"I didn't do this for you, Rory," he sighed. "I did this for me, so that I can move on from this." 

Her gaze fell to the table. "Oh." 

There was an awkward silence before he spoke again. "So, what did you want to tell me?" 

Rory swallowed thickly, wondering if she really could go through with this... and hurt him even more. "You're not gonna like what I have to say." 

His laugh was tinged with a hint of bitterness and hurt. "It doesn't matter." 

One last deep breath and she lifted her head and met his eyes. "I didn't tell you the complete truth about what happened during that weekend I spent at Hartford... when I had the amnesia." His face was carefully expressionless and the only indication that he was even listening to her came in the form of a nod. She went on, "I told you that I spent time with Tristan. I told you that nothing happened." She closed her eyes for a moment, knowing that this knowledge would drive the stake deeper into his heart. Her eyes opened and she bravely tried to keep her gaze on his. "I lied." 

Her heart filled with guilt and regret as she saw hurt cloud his eyes and noticed how he clenched the edge of the table so hard that his knuckles turned white. "What-" He cleared his throat. "What happened?" 

"Dean-" 

"No," he shook his head vehemently. "I have to know." 

"We... I-" she paused for a second, trying to regain her train of thought. "I couldn't remember anything and when I first regained consciousness, he was there and I thought he was someone special to me and he let me think that." Her eyes held this faraway look as she remembered the times they spent together. "I had a wonderful time with him... and I came to really like the Tristan I saw, the Tristan who cared for me." She broke off, seeing the tense set of Dean's jaw and the hard expression in his eyes. 

Rory stifled a sigh and averted her eyes from him, focusing on the salt shaker on the table. "And then, when I regained my memory, things got complicated because there was you." She smiled slightly. "And there was him." 

"Were you with-" 

"No, no, no," she answered, anticipating his question. She shook her head, trying to emphasise her point. "No, I was not with him while I was with you. You know I wouldn't do that, Dean." 

The relief that surged through him at her admission was fleeting but he cherished it nonetheless. He didn't think he could bear the thought of Rory being with him while they were still dating. That would have been too much for him to take. He processed the information she had give him, the pieces of the puzzle not falling into place; but he had to know more. "So?" 

"So... I decided to stay with you and Tristan and I became friends," she stated simply. 

His smile was sardonic. "And then I told you that I love you." 

Rory chewed on her bottom lip. "Yeah." 

"And?" He had a idea of what she was going to say and he knew it would hurt him. But, being the masochist that he was, he wanted to hear it. He wanted closure and what better closure than this? 

"And... I thought of Tristan." 

The puzzle was complete and it elicited such a bitter feeling in him. He smiled wryly. "That's why you couldn't say it." 

"I do care for you, Dean," she explained. "But I couldn't say those words when there was someone else on my mind." 

"I know," he said. After a short while, he told her, "Thank you for telling me this. It's not something I _want_ to hear but I needed to hear it." He pushed his chair back, intending to leave when the touch of Rory's hand on his stopped him. 

"I didn't mean to hurt you," she said softly. 

"I know you didn't. But it still hurts." 

"Dean," she bit her lip. "I hope that we can be friends. I don't wanna lose that." 

"I don't know, Rory. We'll see, okay?" 

"Okay." 

He gave her a small smile before he stood. "I'll see you around." 

* * * * * 

(Thursday morning. Chilton) 

"Are you sick of it yet?" asked the voice from behind her. 

Rory stopped rummaging through her folder and turned to see Paris peering interestedly at her. "Why do you always speak in riddles?" she asked, exasperated. 

Paris quickly pointed to the scene in front of them; Tristan was sitting at his desk with two girls around him. One of them was perched on his desk, her skirt hitched to mid-thigh as she leaned forward and fiddled with his tie, smiling coyly at him from behind her eyelashes. The other girl was standing next to her friend and laughing prettily, reaching out ever so often to touch his shoulder or his arm. Tristan just sat there, smiling politely; not encouraging them but not turning them away either. 

Rory quelched the rising jealous that rose in her and feigned nonchalance. "What about that?" She shrugged. "It happens every day." 

Paris stared at her and Rory just smiled brightly, trying to deflect any suspicions. "Yeah, it does happen every day." 

Rory turned back to her folder but now her interest was piqued. Surreptitiously, she observed the action in front of her. She was used to such displays; ever since she had come to Chilton, girls had always sought him out but it never bothered her this much before. Previously, she was just indifferent to it but recently, it rankled on her nerves. Like yesterday, when she saw Summer cornering Tristan in the hallway or the day before when someone she recognized as Jennifer from her Biology class sat next to him in the cafeteria, smiling widely as she talked with him or the way girls always seemed to stop to say hello to him whenever they were talking in the hallway. '_No, you are not jealous. There is no reason to be jealous. He's not yours. He was never yours._' 

Still, she let out a relieved breath when the teacher entered the room, putting an end to the flirtation. As attendance was called, Tristan turned his head slightly and caught her looking at her. She bit her lip, praying that he didn't realize that she had been staring at him for a while and returned the smile that he gave her. 

Forcing thoughts of him out of her mind, she resolutely turned her attention to the teacher. 

* * * * * 

(Friday evening. Gilmore house. Stars Hollow) 

"Where's my favourite shoes? I need my shoes!" Lorelai screeched as she ransacked her bedroom. She paused and saw her daughter sitting motionless on her bed. "Why are you sitting down? Help me find my shoes!" 

Her lips quirking into a small smile, Rory half-heartedly joined the search for the elusive pair of shoes. "Why can't you wear these?" she asked, holding up a similar pair of heels. 

Lorelai put her hands on her hips and gave Rory a scathing look. "I can't wear those. They're.... they're not my favourite. And I always wear my favourite heels to the Hell dinners." 

"Well," Rory put the shoes in her mother's hands. "You can start a new tradition wearing _these_ shoes." 

Lorelai threw the shoes to the floor and continued searching. "Nuh-uh. No other shoe can provide me with the same pleasure I get out of storming out of my mother's house as those well-loved heels." 

Rory sat back down on the bed and observed the frantic attempts to locate the shoe. "You're weird." 

Lorelai stuck her head out of her closet. "And you're moody." She delved back into the recesses of her messy wardrobe before triumphantly declaring "I found it!" She ambled back to the bed and sat down next to Rory, putting on the shoes. "What's up with you?" 

"Nothing's up." 

"I'm your mother, I know when you're lying." 

"We have to get going, we're gonna be late," Rory said hurriedly, getting up. Before she could take a step, Lorelai grabbed her and pulled her back down. 

"We're always late," Lorelai said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Your evasion tactics need work, missy!" 

Rory sighed, knowing that she was cornered and it would be easier for everyone involved if she just capitulated. "Should I take a chance and tell him?" 

Lorelai didn't need to ask who she was referring to; over the past few days, every other word that left her lips was his name and she knew that Rory was trying to sort things out in her mind. She wrapped an arm around Rory and drew her closer. "I think you should.... before you go crazy with all the 'what ifs'." 

"What if he doesn't feel the same way?" 

Lorelai hid a smile. From what Lane had told her, it definitely seemed as though he felt the same way and had for a long time. Rory just needed a little prodding. "Rory, there are no guarantees when it comes to things like that. You just do it. You take a risk and hope for the best. And you'll keep on taking risks because the pay-off is amazing. And now, you have to decide if he's worth taking a risk for." 

Rory contemplated her mother's advice in silence, admitting to herself that she knew that he was worth it. But to put herself on the line like that, when she couldn't be sure if.... She would think about that later. Now, they had a dinner to go to. 

"We really need to go," she stated, pulling away slightly and smiling. 

Lorelai groaned but allowed Rory to pull her up and out of the house. 

* * * * * 

  



	17. ... Let It Be Me

**

* * * * *   
Something To Remember  
by inmyeyes  
Part 17  


**

(Later that night. Gilmore house. Stars Hollow) 

She had been weighing the pros and cons all throughout dinner and had to be roused from her thoughts five times by her grandmother, who instantly wanted to know what was wrong. After some wonderful manipulation from Lorelai, Emily got off Rory's case and hitched onto a more worthy topic; Lorelai's lack of men in her life. Rory had given her mother a grateful smile for taking a fall for her. 

So, it came as no surprise that all the way home, Lorelai thought of ways Rory could repay her. And finally, after five cups Luke's fine coffee, Lorelai considered the debt repaid... with one last condition, that she "do something about the Tristan thing." 

That was why she was now on the phone, anxiously tapping her fingers on the kitchen table as she waited for someone to pick up the phone. And when the call was finally picked up, she didn't wait for any pleasantries, "I was wrong. You were right. I need your help." 

Paris grinned victoriously. "Why, if it isn't Rory Gilmore." 

"You can lord your victory over me later, Paris. I never thought I'd say this but I need your help with Tristan." 

"We have a plan," she replied briskly, assuming a businesslike tone. 

"We? Who's we?" Rory asked, confused. 

Paris sighed. "Do you want to hear the plan or not?" 

* * * * * 

"So _that's_ your plan?" Rory asked, disbelief lacing her voice. "You want me to go 'Hi Tristan', push him against the lockers and ravish him?" 

"Basically, yeah." She heard Rory snort on the other end. "Hey, it's the most straightforward. You can't screw it up." She added, after a pause, "Plus, he'll enjoy it." 

Rory wanted to laugh. "Gosh, this sounds like something my mother would suggest," she remarked, amused. 

"Really?" Paris injected a questioning tone in her voice, remembering that this was indeed Lorelai's plan. Once Lane had let her in on their plans, Lorelai had adamantly insisted that she be part of it. Then she proceeded to denounce all their other schemes and proclaimed hers superior. The two girls had no choice but agree; besides, their original plans were too grandiose and "had a large margin for error", as Paris had put it. 

"I have a better plan," Rory announced. 

* * * * * 

(Next day. Afternoon. DuGrey residence. Hartford) 

Tristan let out a loud sigh when he leaned over the check his caller-ID. Picking up the phone, he said, "Hello Paris." 

"Wow, you've found your manners again, I see," she commented. 

"You love annoying me, don't you?" 

"I thought that was _your_ mission in life; annoying _me_," Paris remarked. 

"What can I do for you, Paris?" he asked, deciding that humouring her was the fasted way to get rid of her. 

"Are you free today?" 

"Woah... did I hear right? Paris Gellar is asking me out?" he asked, incredulous. 

"No, Paris Gellar is trying to get you to stop moping," she corrected. 

"I am _not_ moping," he said, his voice low and insistent. 

"Yeah, yeah... the wagon has moved on. Blah blah blah. But isn't that Brian McKnight I hear in the background?" 

Biting back a curse, Tristan hit the off button on the remote control, drowning the room in silence. "What do you know about Brian McKnight? You don't listen to him," he countered, refusing to admit that he was indeed moping. 

"True, I don't listen to him," she conceded. "But I listen to you listen to him... and I think I can sing "Anytime" in my sleep now." 

"You are ruthless." 

"Thank you," she said, he voice sickly sweet. "So, are you free today?" 

"I've been listening to Brian McKnight, Paris. What do you think?" he asked dryly. 

"You finally admit it. Great. You can come pick me up in 10. We'll go to the bookstore." 

"Paris-" he protested. But she had already hung up. 

* * * * * 

(Gilmore house. Stars Hollow) 

"This isn't stupid, is it?" Rory asked, pacing across her living room. 

"It's _not_ stupid," Lane said reassuringly. "I think it's about time." 

"What if I say something wrong?" 

Lane grabbed Rory's arms and stopped her pacing. "Rory," she began, her voice firm. "You're not gonna screw this up. Just say what you feel and it'll be fine." 

Rory nodded, her eyes filled with worry. "Okay." She sat down on the couch, playing with the hem of her blue top. "You were planning something with Paris, weren't you?" she asked, out of the blue. 

"Paris? Planning? No." 

Rory laughed at Lane's bad poker face. "You can't lie to me, Lane." 

"Well, it wasn't just the two of us," she protested. "Your mom was involved too." 

Rory shook her head, amused at this new information. "So the ravish-him-against-the-lockers plan was hers, wasn't it?" 

Lane's grin matched her friend's. "Yup." 

* * * * * 

(Westfarms Mall. Hartford) 

"Paris, we've been to three bookstores. What exactly are you looking for?" Tristan asked, weary. 

Paris seemed as upbeat and determined as ever. "Just this book I've been looking for," she answered vaguely. She glanced at her watch, realizing that she had to check in with Lane. "I need to go the restroom," she said abruptly. "Wait here for me." 

As she entered the women's restroom, she quickly dialled Rory's home number, knowing that they were probably there. 

"Hello?" 

"Lane, it's Paris. Where's Rory?" 

"She just left." 

"All right. Great. I'll call you again later." 

The plan was definitely in motion. 

* * * * * 

(About an hour later. DuGrey residence. Hartford) 

As she sat there in the dimly-lit room, she questioned her decision for what seemed like the hundredth time. She couldn't believe that she was actually doing this, that she was actually taking this chance, that she was making the first move. 

But as her eyes roamed the room, the light barely enough for her to see, a smile found its way to her lips as she recalled that afternoon they had spent at his house. When she closed her eyes and let her memories wash over her, she swore that she could almost feel his arms around her again. 

The reasons as to why she was doing this became clearer and clearer with every remembrance that assailed her. 

She had been drawn to him ever since that weekend. Once she had seen those different facets of his personality, he had hooked her in. She had obviously tried to fight it, and her fight had been a valiant one, but in the end, it didn't matter at all. 

In the end, she still wanted him. 

* * * * * 

"This whole afternoon was a wild goose chase, Paris," Tristan commented as the pair entered his house. 

Paris let out an absent-minded "Yeah", her mind more on the plan than anything. Oh God, she hoped it worked. She hoped Rory wouldn't screw up. 

"Paris?" Tristan asked, peering at her and the distant look in her eyes. 

"Um... oh." She raised her voice, hoping that Rory could hear her. "Thanks for coming with me, Tristan. I'll see you tomorrow." Casting a meaningful look in the direction of his living room, she then flashed Tristan a bright smile before quickly leaving. 

Tristan was left standing in his foyer, puzzled at his friend's weird behaviour. "Whatever," he muttered, running his fingers through his already tousled hair. Although Paris book search wasn't fruitful, he was glad that she had asked him to go with her; otherwise, he would have been satisfied to stay in his room and just stare at his ceiling. 

"I need something to eat," he said to no one in particular. As he walked past his darkened living room, the sound of a familiar song hit him, causing him to stand frozen in surprise. Abruptly, it ended and Tristan thought he was going crazy. "You're just hearing things," he said under his breath. But before he could move again, the song started playing again, this time louder. 

His brows furrowed in confusion, he turned to go into the living room, flicking on a light switch as he did so. A lamp in the corner of the room illuminated the room... and the girl who was sitting at the piano nearby. 

The curtain of dark hair swished as the girl turned to face him, her smile shy. "Hi, Tristan." 

_Rory?_ He blinked once, twice... as though not believing what he was seeing. "Rory?" he asked, dumbfounded. 

"Yeah." She turned back to the piano, her fingers falling over the keys lightly. With a confidence that she didn't think she had, she played; the sounds of "Anytime" filling the room and bringing back a lot of memories for the two of them. 

Still somewhat in a daze, he stepped closer to her. "What are you doing here, Rory?" 

His question made her stop and she took a deep, calming breath before standing up and moving closer to him. "I wanted-" She broke off, licking her lips. "I had something to tell you." 

He ignored the hope that flared in his heart. "What did you want to say?" 

Rory bit her lip, not quite sure how to phrase what she wanted to say. She lifted her head slightly so that their eyes met and the hope that she glimpsed in his eyes bolstered her courage. "Tristan, I..." For a few seconds, there were no words as they both just stood there, inches from each other, their eyes locked. And then, Rory decided on a course of action. 

Closing whatever distance that remained between them, Rory reached up and curled her arms around Tristan's neck before leaning up and playing a light kiss on his lips. She inched away slowly, waiting for any reaction from him. Yet he stood there, unmoving except for his eyes that flitted from her eyes to her lips and back again. 

She_ kissed_ him. _She_ kissed him. She kissed _him_. The knowledge was difficult for him to grasp because it seemed too much like a dream, too much like something he had conjured up in his mind. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips and remembering the feel of her lips on his. 

"Tristan..." 

Whatever it was that she was about to say was lost forever when he breached the distance between them and caught her lips in his. And when that contact was re-ignited, the dam of emotions in her broke, filling her with all those amazing, wonderful, glorious feelings that he had made her feel so long ago; feelings that she had missed having. Dimly, at the back of her mind, she concurred with her earlier admission that no one else could ever make her feel this way. Purring lightly in pleasure, she wrapped her arms around him tighter, pulling their bodies into close proximity. 

His lips hungrily took from her and gave as freely in return; his hand in her mass of luxuriant hair and the other stroking down her back. His want for her, which he had buried in the face of defeat, rekindled and threatened to consume him. Somewhere in the haze of desire that he was experiencing, he knew that he had to stop this before a line was crossed. Reluctantly, he drew away from her with one last soft kiss, his hands coming up to frame her face. 

"Rory-" 

She smiled at him and his resolve faded away; he pulled her closer as they lost themselves in feelings that they had restrained for so long. 

* * * * * 

(A little later) 

"Where are you taking me?" she asked, her tone playfully impatient. 

He took his eyes off the road for a second to look at her, unable to resist the completely content grin that overtook his face. "Are you peeking?" 

His question made her pout and she crossed her arms. "No, I am not peeking. I can't believe you made me wear this blindfold," she complained, tugging at the cloth that was obscuring her vision. 

Chuckling, he reached over and lightly squeezed her hand. "It'll be worth your while." 

She grinned widely. "You promise?" The invitation in her voice was clear. 

"I promise," he said in a mock-serious voice. 

About two minutes later, Rory piped up again. "Are we there yet?" 

"Actually, we are." 

"Great. This better be good," she said moments later as Tristan helped her out of the car. 

"You'll like it, I promise," he answered as he took her hands and led her. 

After some walking, they finally stopped and Tristan stood behind her, untying the blindfold. Rory blinked a few times, trying to get her vision clear again and when she finally took in her surroundings, she gave a gasp of pleasant surprise. 

She turned to him, her smile bright. He couldn't help but plant a light kiss on her lips. "You remembered," she said, her eyes alight with joy. 

"Of course." He wrapped her up in a hug and whispered, "I remember everything." 

A few kisses later, the empty playground in the park was filled with the sound of squealing and laughing as the two teenagers raced to the swings. 

* * * * * 

"I can't believe I'm here with you," he whispered, looping his arms around her waist. 

Rory leaned her head on his shoulder and turned slightly to that she could see his face. In the moonlight, the planes of his face looked even more defined, reminding her of how good-looking he was. Lifting her hand, she lightly stroked his cheek, the action causing him to smile and place a kiss on her palm. "Well, believe it," she responded. "I'm not going anywhere." 

They took in the night sounds; the light chirping and the sound of the breeze swishing past them as they sat underneath the stars. They were content to sit there, together; without any lies, anyone between them. Everything between them was finally right. 

This, he thought, was a dream come true. Just the simple act of sitting with her in his arms and being able to touch her and kiss her and know that she felt the same way he did for her... it was just amazing and it made his heart sing. He thought back to that surreal moment when he found her in his livign room and the way she had smiled at him and how she- Suddenly, a thought crossed his mind. "How did you-" 

She knew what he was asking. "Paris." 

"And the song?" 

"A crash course by the ever-talented Paris Gellar," Rory said in an announcer's voice. 

"Remind me to thank her," he remarked, as he kissed her forehead. 

She sighed happily. "I know." 

* * * * * 

(Later that night. Gilmore house. Stars Hollow) 

"He actually said 'I remember everything.'?" Lane asked interestedly. 

"For the second time, Lane," Rory rolled her eyes good-naturedly, "yes, he did." 

Lane burst out in raucous laughter. "Oh my God, this is _classic_!" 

"What's classic?" 

"Remember when I told you that you guys are like Pacey and Joey?" 

"Yeah," Rory replied slowly, not seeing where this was headed. "I remember that." 

"Well," Lane grinned. "Pacey actually said to Joey 'I remember everything'." 

"He did?" 

"You know, that episode when they were-" 

Rory cut in. "Forget I asked." 

"You're no fun," Lane pouted and threw a cushion aimed at Rory's head. 

Rory easily caught it. "You're on crack," she commented. "Really bad crack." 

"Who's on crack?" Lorelai asked as she emerged from the hallway. 

"Lane is." 

Lane shrugged. "Ignore the girl. She's high on love." Just as she finished the sentence, the cushion that had been in Rory's hands hit her. "Hey!" 

" 'High on love'?" Rory repeated, her tone incredulous. "Burn that phrase!" 

Lorelai sat down next to the two girls, eager to know what had happened. "So, I take it the plan went well?" 

Rory's grinned giddily. "Yeah, it went well. It was a merging of my plan and your plan." 

Lorelai stood up and bowed. "Thank you, thank you. I am the master." She sat back down and slung an arm around each of the girls. "Great, so am I right in assuming there's a 'Tristan and Rory'?" 

Rory snuggled closer to her mother and smiled as the thought of him lingered in her mind. "Yeah." 

"So, the risk was worth it?" Lorelai asked, smiling down at Rory. 

"Definitely," she answered. Her smile broadened. "I dunno what's gonna happen with us... but no matter what, it'll definitely be something to remember."   
  
  
  


_ - Finis - _  
  


Phew. Finally, this is over... I thought it'd never happen. :D   
Thank you for reading and reviewing; when I first started writing this, I didn't think it'd get the response it has gotten... so _thank you so much_. I love all the feedback I get, it's all good.   
Also, a thank you to the FF Trories for all their support and to Shandra for her valued input into the story at times when I wasn't sure what to do; I really appreciate it. :D  
I hope you've enjoyed this as much as I loved writing it. Any final comments are welcome.  
Thanks! It's been great.   



End file.
